The Apostle Islands are in mid Lake Superior;
there are twenty-two of them as I recall.
Six lighthouses are found amidst these beautiful isles,
Outer Island most remote of them all.
Now the towering lighthouse on Outer Island
was our home for five years … and then
we were transferred to the lighthouse on Raspberry Island,
never to see this lighthouse again.
So the last night on Outer I stood on that high cliff,
where the tramway steps down to the shore,
and the sounds of the universe communed with my soul
like it had never done before!
It wasn’t a sudden awakening,
it was more like a melodious yet unwritten tune …
’twas in the cries of the timber wolves that filled the night air
and in the distance … the song of a loon!
It was in the wind that swept ’cross that great Lake Superior
the waters responding with their own song,
as they lapped the white sand beach, splashed on the rocks,
then forever they both … would move on.…
The music played on in the millions of stars
where profound silence ruled all on high.
Then as though a great maestro had lifted his hand,
a comet blazed across that night sky!
As I stood there I remembered how the wind would rage
and the waters leap to the dark clouds above,
forgetting they had once gently mingled together
not remembering their own songs of love.
The thunder would boom, there would be torrents of rain,
tongues of lightning lashed out into space.
Like the clash of great cymbals and the roll of giant drums,
awesome power met face to face!
But the storm would subside as though weary of war,
silence would then take command.
A velvety fog parted the sea and the sky
until sunshine warmed all the land.
Dewdrops would sparkle on a spider's fine web,
a fly dried off one fragile wing.
Buttercups and daisies reached for the sun,
all around, Mother Nature would sing.
I’d also recall that magnificent sight
only seen on rare summer nights,
when spasms of colors leaped to the Heavenly Gate,
revealing the great Northern Lights.
I returned to the present as bank swallows twittered by
and once again heard the timber wolves' cries.
The squawk of a seagull …the song of that loon
my soul knew … we were all saying goodbye.
I realize now how much I had learned
from the sights and the sounds that were there.
There's a network of power, restless energy that is endless
and abounds in everything … everywhere.
’Tis in the wind, the sea, the call of the wild,
in the fiery sun above.
But the greatest power that nurtures it all
is the unseen power of love.
Yes, this had been my playground, this had been my stage,
and it was free, where nature put on her greatest shows.
I saw and heard the universe sing,
I had a seat in the very front row!
In prayer I go back to that high cliff on Outer
and walk where my footsteps once trod,
My soul joins the wind and is refreshed by the sea,
then returns through the Spirit of God.
I pray to dear Lord when my soul soars to Heaven,
may I have a seat in the very front row?
I'd like to join with the angels and sing
in their choir to the souls on the earth below.
May I be in the wind, and the sounds of the sea,
in the sun that warms from above,
giving strength to souls as was given to me,
through your Supreme Power of love!
Oh Yes … it is all tied together!
Frances Platske
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