When lost in the fog of confusion,
the shadow of gloom,
go to the seaside during the quietude
of dawn
or the magic gloaming time.

Better yet, arrive at the witching hour.
Embrace the dark and your eyes
will adjust,
will begin to catch the faintest
traces of light.

And just as hope simmers in your belly,
the lighthouse shines.
A beacon.
A reminder of your sacred
contract with the divine.
A message that you are never alone.