Morning light cuts through the broken glass panes
Tomato vines reach for the warming rains
My lighthouse legs ache in the damp earth smell
Thirty years keeping watch I know this well
Cracked glass morning I tend what remains
Sea salt in soil blood in the veins
Light bends through fractures finds roots in the dark
Keeper of both the lamp and the spark
Condensation drips like fog on the lens
Pepper plants flower where the wild mint blends
I prune with the care that I gave to the light
Each snip a prayer for the coming night
Bouzouki strings hum where the seabirds once cried
Bodhran beats slow as the turning tide
Low whistle sings through the broken roof beams
Green things grow strong in the salt-water dreams
Cracked glass morning I tend what remains
Sea salt in soil blood in the veins
Light bends through fractures finds roots in the dark
Keeper of both the lamp and the spark
The lamp room is empty the Fresnel lens cold
But here in the steam new stories unfold
No ships to save from the jagged reef stone
Just seedlings reaching for light unknown
Hands in the dirt where the worm casts wind
Healing the land where the salt begins
Cracked panes catch the dawn like the prism I knew
Splitting the dark into green and true
Cracked glass morning I tend what remains
Sea salt in soil blood in the veins
Light bends through fractures finds roots in the dark
Keeper of both the lamp and the spark
Keeper of both the lamp and the spark
Green grows through the cracks steady and slow
The light keeps its watch where the tomatoes grow
