Angele Toomey Poetry

There is something about the Wellington Harbour that is singing to my soul at the moment. This poem was inspired by my evening train journey home after a day working in the office. I saw an Inter-Islander ferry coming through the mouth of the Harbour, it was if she had called to the fog to follow her into a safe haven for the night. And then, logically, I thought of a lighthouse.

Alone, at sea
I am the lighthouse
Standing on borrowed time
Waiting for inspiration
to emerge from the fog.
A feeble light trying
to cut through the darkness
in search of truth and beauty.

I am the lighthouse
Slowly succumbing to 
the sea.
Feeling the bite of storms
that form well beyond my reach,
a reminder 
for you 
of what could have been.

I am the lighthouse
Becoming as forgotten
as an illuminated destiny.
Obstinately obsolete
Now only seen by the 
Albatross in the fleeting seconds
they pass by.
I am the lighthouse
Waiting for time to end
And for my body to become
one with the sea.