He felt lost and she was an anchor,
faithful lighthouse, a gift overlooked.
Sometimes he burned bright but quickly gave
over to a darkness that consumed—
one he refused to see, so life then
revealed truth in her absence. But he
couldn’t hold on to the stars,
the light we are, couldn’t honor truth
of his own choosing to spin, avoid
the heart’s compass, ever true . He threw
her overboard but, that not enough,
fired shots to erase memory
her pure presence meant to be comfort,
an opening to remembrance of
true faith, hope of glory, trace of love.
Though his ship tipped and began to sink
he piled up treasures taken, cancelled
any trace of her, sailed to distant
shores to plunder and slander her name.

Ballast at the bottom of the sea,
she stayed under water gathering
bits of her. She dreamed of pirate queen.
She had to become one with drowning
in darkness until, her strength restored,
she rekindled faith and light within.

And while she could not see anything
in state of injury—or think or
feel or be, she heard the ocean sing
to her and stir the waters murky.
Years passed. I confess she looked a mess.
In dark waters she, untamed, became

Beacon of hope persistent. Darkness
came to honor strange tenacity
as she held fast to some inner light
not seen but in which she still believed.

Ballast at the bottom of the sea,
she stayed under water gathering
bits of her. She dreamed of pirate queen.

Where your treasure is, there heart will be.
She, a rose, bloomed at the bottom of
dark sea, treachery, because she cared
for the dormant seed of light within.
Miracle of her restoration
met her in shaft of light reflected
on horizon in perfect timing
and slowly then she reclaimed her heart.
One fine day she broke silence to see
the sky, the sun, the wind and they too
remembered her, welcomed her back home.

Where your treasure is, there heart will be.
He, entrusted with sacred truth to
guard, protect, honor sacrificed it
willingly; having tasted blood and
with lust for power, denied the life
that stirred within. His heart divided,
each half refused to see the other.
As such, his eyes did not see rightly.
He too rose up true to what he thought,
but failed to heed the warning that what
is not brought forth will consume, destroy. 

Ballast at the bottom of the sea,
she stayed under water gathering
bits of her. She dreamed of pirate queen.
She had to become one with drowning
in darkness until, her strength restored,
she rekindled faith and light within.

And while she could not see anything
in state of injury—or think or
feel or be, she heard the ocean sing
to her and stir the waters murky.
Years passed. I confess she looked a mess.
In dark waters she, untamed, became

Beacon of hope persistent. Darkness
came to honor strange tenacity
as she held fast to some inner light
not seen but in which she still believed.

Ballast at the bottom of the sea,
she stayed under water gathering
bits of her. She dreamed of pirate queen.