Bent under the tide
sweeping so low,
to peer up is a feat
in the powerful undertow.

Cold water rushing
sweeping silently past,
a nature unknown to man
the future in the past.

Hands reaching up
seeking pure air
to escape the watery din
unloving despair.

All hope of life
sought with these hands
to stretch from depths
these Neptune lands.

Heart pounds pulsed
beseeching a love grant
to marry to soul
impulse expectant.

Hold on to the image
this boundless stream
to life, to heaven's endless dream.