The Lighthouse


Sometimes in the night
When I feel divided
By my own personal pull
Towards my inner core,
And the tug of the world
To keep me anchored in the life
Pulsating outside me...

Then your holy icon,
Illuminated by a single candle
By the side of my bed
transforms itself into a lighthouse,
poised on the rim of the turbulent ocean
Of my own self-doubt.
-Portia Burton