What I looked for was a place where water Flowed continually. It could come In rapids, over rocks in great falls and Arrive at stillness far below. I watched The hidden power. And then I went to rivers, The source and mouth, the place where estuaries Were the last, slow-moving waters and The sea lay not far off continually Making her music, Loud gulls interrupting.
At first I only listened to her music, Slow movements first, the held-back waves All their force to rear and roar and stretch Over the waiting sand. Sea music is What quiets my spirit. I would like my death To come as rivers turn, as sea commands.
Let my last journey be to sounds of water.