Ankh Poem by Daniel Spencer

I can see the water from my window,
deep and dark.
It ripples as I go about my routine.
Some days, I see it bubble and spit and
I wonder what lies beneath.


As I read a worn old book
about a hidden chest of treasure,
something sweeps over me.
A truth rings clear in my head.
My spirit is singing as I look out to see
the water more alive than it has ever been.
I fly down the stairs, through the door
to catch what it has just spouted.

A key.