The Lighthouse

What draws the eye to the lighthouse?
Oh say, what could it be?
Now how could a light on a mighty 'Rock'
forgive lost souls at sea?
There are no ropes to pull them in,
no map of where to go -
as we hear cries past crashing waves -
below the beacon's glow.

Relentlessly, the wind blows -
the noise as a million drums!
The angry sea still swallows scores,
as the weak in faith succumb.
Through rain and hail and deadly fog,
sins weather strangely mixed -
a faint, but 'guiding light' shines through -
if eyes are firmly fixed.

The lighthouse sounds its fog horn,
proclaiming 'Christ is King'!
Our voices chime in harmony
as we rejoice and sing!
We find great solace in the 'Rock'
as the faithful lighthouse calls.
It's then that storms surrender and,
receding darkness falls,

What is it about the lighthouse?
How special can it be?
And how can Jesus nailed to a cross
help souls still lost at sea?
As long as the halo shines around
the beacon that lights the sky -
secure on the 'Rock' forgiveness stands
as the lighthouse draws the eye.