Reaching upward and inward,
the lighthouse dreamer
raises to a silvery cresting moon
trembling hands adoring…
even the stars melt into her.
Stepping into a lover's protecting arms,
She converges with her in deepest night
here upon rocks glistening,
shining blackwater silhouette mist,
echoing surf thunder indistinguishable
from pulsing surges
Here into her towering sanctuary
above the waves,
this lover she bears.
The newly risen one discerns
within the dreamer's beacon heart
hidden fear-a heart,
too afraid of being hurt...
afraid of needing and wanting
then it too taken away.
Yet therein the lover
glimpses behind questioning eyes
smoldering amidst a heart she knows
and bravely carves the foggy dark of night,
Her lighthouse dreamer.
Nancy M. Hill
© 22 March 2002