Return me to the sea–
my lifeblood, fluidity.

Place evergreens therein
to enliven,
as the flames do drown.

Trumpet the alarming horn.
Fire dances to alerting sound.

This vagabond finally set to sail
an eternal voyage of conch and shell–

a journey to the other side,
where life and freedom do reside.

When my transit comes to pass,
Aegir and Ran call my name alas.

Carve it in the stones, thy rune:
“She danced to her own ship called Tune.”