First Encounters
The tiny little boat on the ocean, a little stunned by the power of the ocean, had learned the hard way. 
Though even before getting caught up in the first big storm, it had been aware that the lighthouse was there to hold and direct, it had since realised that keeping its gaze fixated on the lighthouse was the only way to survive.
So, the lighthouse became its focus, the turn-to point in times of trouble, of which there were quite a few. Somehow, looking at the brick walls and its majestic stance at the edge of the cliff, calmed the little boat. In fact, it became a source of strength when the winds were howling, the waves raging, and the rain pelting down on its little body. Even during calm days, the little boat would gaze, amazed by the might of the lighthouse. 
Meanwhile, the lighthouse had many boats to mind and guide. Sometimes, it was unable to spare a boat from smashing against rocks. That was sad. Often, the lighthouse would try to scream instructions through gale-force winds, many times to no avail. Some boats in trouble couldn’t hear, while others lacked the strength to battle the waves. Whenever the lighthouse managed to lead a boat safely ashore or away from the storm, it was happy.
As for the little boat, well, it spoke to the lighthouse all day and night, even though it didn’t know could the lighthouse make out the many words. But the lighthouse could hear the little boat rambling on all the time. Whenever possible, the lighthouse listened and thought the little boat was funny with all its words, stories, moans and groans. Soon, the lighthouse had become used to the noise of the little boat’s words, as it was now part of the song of the wind, the sun, and the waves.
On days when the little boat was tired and didn’t talk, the lighthouse felt uneasy. Still, the lighthouse would keep an eye on the little boat, whisper instructions when necessary, always making sure that the little boat was alright.
Every day, the little boat would talk at the lighthouse, and the lighthouse would hear and talk back. The only trouble was, the little boat couldn’t hear the lighthouse very well, if at all. Instead, it was firmly grabbing onto the light coming from the lighthouse. That was OK for both of them, but the sun had other ideas.
The Sun Builds a Bridge
Sitting in the sky is boring at the best of times, at least so the sun thought. So, whenever something a little unusual crops up, the sun steps in. Hence, when it heard the many words of both and saw the many gazes between the lighthouse and the little boat, the sun decided to build a bridge of light between them. Once the bridge stood firm, the sun sat back and waited. That night, the winds were ice-cold, the lighthouse talked and so did the little boat, just not directly to each other.
But the sun’s light, spanning between them now, sucked in the many words until they met. At the same time, one end of the bridge was on the little boat, while the other one somewhere around the strong foundation of the lighthouse. As the light bridge took hold of both ends, the words began flowing in, both the lighthouse and the little boat were captured. Now, they could see the light in between, and each other. The words flew freely, and ramblings and teachings turned into conversations. “Hi”, the lighthouse sad, “hi”, the little boat replied.
The sun smiled down and listened.
Words, Words, and More Words
It was as if though a light had been switched on in their heads. Thrilled, they talked and talked and talked. About anything and everything, simple things and big questions. With every word, they grew closer, the light bridge became more solid and colourful. Even when the lighthouse was busy guiding other boats or the little boat had to fend off some storms, they stayed together. Occasionally, they’d argue but that only seemed to add more weight and size of the light bridge between them. 
Ever growing closer, they now knew each other’s nooks and crannies, their ways and thoughts. As if now breathing the same breath, the little boat and the lighthouse lived together, though they were always at quite a distance. Now and again, they longed to see each other up close, but mostly, they felt so close that it didn’t seem to matter all that much.
The Pull
Meanwhile, the sun kept adding light, gifting even more proximity of mind and spirit while wondering how the lighthouse and the boat would manage. Would the little boat decide to sail toward the lighthouse? Would the lighthouse call in the little boat?
What no one expected was the pull of the light bridge’s ends, now firmly engrained, thick and luminous. Sometimes, the pull was so strong that the lighthouse was bent over and the little boat struggled to stay afloat. Still, the tender distance 
between them remained insurmountable, at least for now.
Most of the time, their hearts’s rhythm was calm and in tune. Only occasionally, it fluttered because the pull meant longing and hurt. Still, the little boat and the lighthouse were happy to have grown so close. Both lead busy lives they didn’t share. The little boat sailing here and there, encountering other little boats along the way, while the lighthouse worked hard to mind as many boats as it could.
All the while, the bridge and the pull was their home, growing stronger every day.
The Call, the Longing, and Ocean, and the Sun
Not sure who heard the call the loudest and whom the longing bothered most. Perhaps it was the wailing song of the wind and rain that touched the heart of the ocean and the sun.
As the lighthouse and the little boat, huddled together yet far apart, managed their longing, sometimes better, sometimes not, the ocean and sun conspired to play a song. Large waves met brilliant rays of light touching the bridge between the lighthouse and the little boat. Such was the sparkle that the ocean and sun combined to lift both the lighthouse and the little boat, until at last, they met half-way across the bridge.