Dark and light wait to be known.
Rising from the eastern sea,
insight gleams all on its own,
through calm and storm, touch and tears
it does not move, but does not rest,
while lives are spun and ships are built
to undertake some bloody quest,
that empty jars of hearts be filled.
Here on the point an empty lighthouse
means not to divide
by grace the windswept to bay found
or to angry rocks to die,
Ah, but this is how we are not known;
We pay wrecked hearts no heed
and compass them with precious stone
that they not break or therefore bleed.
My love by touching of your gift
in pitch black night I occupy
the light that guides my lonely ship
to bring you treasure in the dawn.
to sing in salted spray your song,
the treasure treasure cannot buy.
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