At last in past is the dream of me I see,
As I sit in a boat afloat, I admit, through the sea of life
I saw myself without spiritual wealth,
Shipwrecked, turned and tossed, I yearned
from truth-aloof in my youth, I was lost,

On a voyage under nights-roof darkest, aloof-alone,
only stars atone with a glowing harkness,
Would, by knowing which one I should follow,
be an escape from the agape of sea and dark to swallow?
Be showing a way as I drift astray?

May the chosen star in my nightmare dream – gleam a light – beam as I pray for day,
Beaming aglow, it would brighten my dream’s darkly plight of a woeful night,

From a sudden bright star shone from afar a sight and,
feeling full of healing full rays,
Which conveys a life of meaningful light of days,

Says the living lighthouse ways calling from the shore:
Hark! I glowed, so what is dark is culled
Hark! I formed, so what is stormed is lulled

Lo! So rocks are no more!
For sure, so am I the light!
So am I the breath!
So am I the rock!
Lo! I AM the VOYAGE!!

(c) Copyright 2016 Gerald Weeks