The Lonely Keeper

Do you know the Nor’east gale
That whistles by the lighthouse walls
That in mid-winter could stop a whale
From coming full out before it falls

Aye, that is the spot where I stood and listened
There on the breakers as the big light went ‘round
And ‘though things fluttered and the stars glistened
I was rapt in a silence that evaded all sound

As severe a loneliness that a man could endure
I felt the spray as the waves slapped the stone
It awakened the noise ‘though I could not be sure
‘Twas from about me or from somewhere unknown

Yet now the sounds seemed friendly and clear
I searched for the moon that had begun its ascent
Its face consoled me and I thought I could hear
Through the whoosh of the wind a repeating lament

It is odd how in a solitude one can feel utterly befriended
He can sense beyond doubt that his convictions are true
That ‘though he may wallow in misery and die unattended
He can firmly believe that it was the best he could do

And so in this lament I discerned a purpose for existing
In the lashing of the tide and in the wind’s woeful howl
This was my companionship and I saw no point in persisting
In such an intransigent mood wearing such a petulant scowl

So as I scuffled up the stairs to the top of the beacon
I imagined myself Diogenes ‘though my lamp had blown out
And as the beam cut its swath I knew nothing could weaken
My belief that the truth shall always be darkened by doubt.