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The Magic Lighthouse ©

Sonja Nic Rafferty
Germany
2003

My grandfather had a trawler when I was at the Firth of Forth a child,
Once he took me to the fishing grounds, the weather was supposed to be mild.
Bell Rock exposed to the elements, suddenly a whirlwind at random!
The trawler leaked, helplessly we would sink to the bottom,
So we asked the granite lumps of Bell Rock to tell us stories about hope.
We were in despair and short of time to reach the desirable coast,
Lost our bearing, this mighty ocean didn't offer a guide post.
Silvery-grey seagulls flapped their wet, dripping wings,
Staggering in the storm when it was slightly freezing
Behind the dunes chased by giant rain shadows.
As if by magic on the deeply fissured rock appeared a lighthouse.
We joined our hands in prayer, biting was the wind, dark the hour.
The sea looked at us in freedom and mystically when we spoke to the tower:

"So many storm-tossed hours dampen dreary days,
Please, do not leave us out in the cold but lead the ways.
You are a magic lighthouse in our life's nightfall,
Guide us, so we cannot get lost over the long haul."

The luminosity sparkled from a distance so bright,
Giving us a hearty welcome in the gleaming twilight.
Many Scots unfortunately are spread all over the world,
As fate would have it I also live abroad, less unfurled.
Sadly my dear grandfather and many of the family have gone,
I cherish Celtic traditions, no matter it's Scottish, Irish or Breton.
Once a year I see my homeland and travel to the Firth of Forth,
Calmness belongs to me when I go to my favourite area in the north.
On my journey I'm always overloaded of memories,
And I want to go back to Bell Rock in a summer breeze.
I would write the plea to the tower on a granite rock,
To remember the importance of lighthouses, this marks an epoch:

"So many storm-tossed hours dampen dreary days,
Please, do not leave us out in the cold but lead the ways.
You are a magic lighthouse in our life's nightfall,
Guide us, so we cannot get lost over the long haul."


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