by Katherine Gotthardt
It came to me how beloved our lighthouses are,
not just those pillars of hope for those who are lost at sea,
but those seeking footing amid any pressing darkness.
By Katherine Gotthardt When in the throes of too early morning, sky flamboyant in darkness, stars about its forehead turning it dizzy with its own greatness, its own vast reach, it comes to me in a thin, tepid current, how we are billions just like ourselves, each with a story to live, each with life …