Beacons

                       Beacons

As we slip through frightening mists

      between the stepping stones of our spirit’s trek,

we all require encouraging light-fingers

      to draw us to each new hamlet.

 

As we despair in our fight from complacency

      in which our trembling spirit palls,

we cry to hear the warm song of direction

      as it resounds from mossy walls.

 

As a beacon, we ease each other’s search for

      personal spirit yet unfulfilled,

escorting our gentle, halting friends

      through domains we each have built.

 

And thus we serve beloved kindred spirits

      through eternity’s star-filled dark,

giving courage and gentle pushes toward

      the melding of our hearts.

 

-Jo-

November 15, 1985

Minneapolis