He rows across the glassy bay
With letters sealed in dawn’s first ray;
The lighthouse waits its keeper too
A mirror soul of earnest hue
The waves applaud his measured stroke
The sky exhales the morning smoke;
No haste no fear just constant will
To bridge the far with human still
He trades the news both joy and pain
Then rows toward the land again;
Each envelope a living seed
That feeds connection’s quiet creed
At noon the sea reflects his craft
As if two worlds in rhythm laughed;
And somewhere in that calm divide—
I learn what faith and duty hide