Spiritual

I escape in the movements of drowning 
The calm within the sea, 
The dark green of the lake bed, 
Describing what peace can be. 
 
The gentle waves go lapping 
To move me on my way, 
A graceful dance in dying 
With an aquatic roundelay. 
 
The arms that come out stretching 
Are gladly out of reach, 
For the spirits of the deep 
Are those I shall beseech. 
 
With love no longer in the air 
Then water is my home, 
To give my spirit to the deep 
From where I will not roam.

An aquatic roundelay