There are these nights
like clockwork I find myself
ticking up stone steps
at the lighthouse

There are these nights
cloaked in melancholy
staring out, wide-eyed
across the freezing seas of time

There are these nights
I sit, quietly, by the lens
wondering of all the other nights
I have sat quietly wondering…

A thread of light stretches backwards 
through all my life
sewing together
these contemplative moments
connecting me with my younger selves

We all sit there on different steps
looking out to sea
with our lifetime of bad haircuts
and our silver fountain pens
each one more expensive than that preceding

We all wonder in an echo
we all wonder
‘Am I right? Is my aim true?
do I have any aim at all?

O, where… am I going?’

I long to reach out a hand somehow
send out a boat to them
I worry for those lost faces
adrift on wild seas
rocking in churning waters 
without a lot of hope

Through the thick blanket of night
I sense
the face of a future me
he looks healthier, happier
richer somehow
looking back across the freezing seas of time
fondly and encouragingly
he’s smiling back at me…

(December 2015)