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.