Before I am Famous

literature is something we infer after the story is told

Guardian

Posted on | November 17, 2005 |

Night crashes
spreading an unearthly pink glow throughout.

Spiraling to the impending
night sky, is the guardian.

It’s heart breathes rhythmically with each second
into the night.

To the weak and weary sailor,
it’s a symbol of home,
of love,
of happiness.
But of home especially.

One more step closer to home.
One less step away from danger.
And the guardian shows the path to home
where heaven is.

Category: poetry corner

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