The cliff on which the lighthouse stands,
Hasn’t forever stood as now it stands,
The mighty force of natural elements,
Adds, subtracts from sea to land
Ever changing though it appears the same,
A silent siren or warning depends the name.
The waters which pound the rocks away,
No two drops fall the same two ways,
Nor arrive together in self-made fashion,
To create the waves of the seas way,
But their power alters everything,
The music fills and clearly rings.
The wind that hustles, bustles, towers,
Shrieks past the brave and those that cower,
Reshaping earth as it surely blows,
A shrill for voice or a terrific howler,
Then reduces self to a meek remnant,
Returning to the ends from which it was sent.
The sun, the moon, the stars at night,
Alternating features seen by sight,
Turning soil and rock to dust
Casting shadows deep into the light
The greater rules the day, the lesser dark,
The lighthouse stands so sure it’s mark.
The One and truest God of all,
The God to who restores us from our fall,
When we seek our own path and way,
Neglecting our truest, greatest call,
He reaches through the murk of man,
Reconciles us to Him in love because He can.