Ode To An Urn

the freeing of the spirit

Ode To An Urn

It is a very small thing,
below the waters churn.
So patiently I'm waiting,
a prisoner of the urn.

A last request is sacred,
release me to the winds.
I'll gently drift into the sea
to where it all begins.

When my love is close to you,
in your dreams you'll see,
my spirit wanders restlessly,
just waiting to be free.

Come my love let's do this please,
to the distant ringing bells;
turn this prison up-side-down
and cast me to the swells.


T.L.Finch