The Dirge for Misplaced Maritimers

there's water in our bones
and though we be far from
sea and shore it beckons
to us across the prairies
to return to murmuring lullabies
and be rocked gently by
high tide and low tide;

there be water in our bones...

In my utmost being,
I desire You to enter,

Come in, open windows,
Swing back doors,

harrow heart's soil
to plant daisies,

Well up the Spring,
To tune my bones
and let them sing!