It is possible I will be found.
\nI am building a lighthouse.
\nThe mortar is mixed with pain,
\nit is wet with laughter.
\nThe beacon is the fire of words
\ngathered from dark dreams.
\nHow far it will be seen
\nI don\u2019t know.<\/p>\n
The sea of humanity goes out
\nfor miles.
\nIt never stops glowing.
\nIt comes up from the deep
\nin a yellow phosphorescence,
\nin a blue topaz glow,
\nin colors I\u2019ve never seen,
\nso changing,
\nso swift,
\nand the people, like fish
\nrefuse to be caught.<\/p>\n
They go through the twine
\nlike small birds,
\nbecome fireflies in the black water.
\nThe lighthouse perhaps
\nwill attract a few as guests,
\ntempt the shadow-less ones
\nto stop by,
\nbecome a light by which something
\ncan be found before they go on.<\/p>\n
I am the last of the land souls.
\nI do not have the wildness of man,
\nthe restless urge to roam,
\nthe talons of an eagle or hawk.
\nI wish only to reach out to the singer,
\nthe fisher of clams,
\nthe face of the lost dreamer
\ndevouring stars.
\nThose who pause looking for a light,
\nfar to the distance,
\nwhere I wave,
\nbeseeching their eyes.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
It is possible I will be found. I am building a lighthouse. The mortar is mixed with pain, it is wet with laughter. The beacon…<\/p>\n