The Lighthouse: A Poem by Helen Unwin

What good is a lighthouse that sits in the dark?

Admiring its bulb, but failing to spark.

For fear of shining too brightly and causing a stir.

And everyone seeing the power of her.

But dimming her light does not help the world.

The brightness inside her needs to unfurl.

Only when lit do lighthouses come alive.

Helping others see clearly is for what they strive.

What makes you so frightened to switch on the switch?

I’m worried they’ll see me and call me a bitch.

“Of course she shines brightly,” someone will say,

“She’s never had rocks that stand in her way.”

“She’s a lighthouse, she’s never been out in the sea,

She’s never been capsized or attacked like me.”

And then she replies glowing ever so brightly.

This isn’t one bulb its thousands packed tightly

Of my rocks and my fears from over the years,

Though different to yours, they’ve helped me see clear.

On what I’m accepting to be or to feel,

And what stories I tell myself - how to be real.

And if that’s of value to you…I’ll be here.

Sharing my power and holding your beer.