Bosun's Log, 9 Severen 16
Conditions: Cool, Clear
On Horizon: Uncertain conditions
Cast and course: Nor'Nor'east, fifteen degrees east, foremast half-furled
Pace: Steady
Stores: Holding
Rations: None called by Captain nor First Mate
Crew Morale: Weary, but holding

Report:

Sands are not a part of me, not in my blood, nor bone, nor breast
But where you walk they follow you and, in that, give me rest
Safety is a strangest thing - it has no pathway, mark or call
With you, and you, sometimes, alone, I feel, FEEL, most of all

Everything is fire, immolation, holocaust
Yet, to love you, wholly, I'd pay every cost
Holds of treasure,hoards of gold, gems, relics and jewels
Nothing, nothing, is beyond, no price, no pain, no rules

Wheresoever I shall roam, there so shall you be
A promise, that I made once, an oath, 'tween you and me
Wheresover shall you be, there will point my prow
Unfurl my sails and catch the wind, no matter when, nor how

I'd conquer every squall, face down any storm and sea
No matter how far I go, I'd sail back to thee
Desert rose and sand-birthed flower, firestorm and wroth
And in between those wisps of smoke there is a gentle hearth

I smile, thin, and small, and frail, and sometimes not at all
Pearlescent teeth and shark's-tooth grin, all masks to strip and fall
But when near you, within your heart, I feel at peace, a'bay
No wind, nor storm, nor lance of heaven, not one will block my way

On first I stepped 'pon paved stone 'mongst towers of stone and glass
My eyes of storm and pounding heart turned, lost, and found your -
Soul, spirit, breath, -eyes-, oasis, far from desert sands
Brilliant, holy, lighthouse lips, and gentle, loving hands

I've pierced flesh and marked my stake, my plunder evermore
For months and breaths and dreams and nights I've tallied up my score
I've given you so much that shines, and glints, and glows and gleams
Not a one stands tall against the date-fruit wreathe of lips and toothy beams

Sometimes, as of late, I am completely lost, confounded
It is then, I close my eyes, and like every single sailor

Breathe in deep. Look at the compass upon me.

And find my way home.

To you. My Lighthouse.

Light comes from so many places - we all too often forget. No matter how much spirit you wield or shadow you hold, Light comes. Every day. With the rise of the sun and the glint of light from distant stars and the gentle tones of the moon. And from each, and all, deep within, there is light.

Not Light, just light.

And yours - brightest, and truest, of any I have ever met.


Penned by my hand on Quensday, the 9th of Severin, in the year 16 AC.