Before you became my polestar,

I was diverted by the one who boasts

Deep fish and salt-crusted waves.

The one who puffs our pride that all rivers

Rush to embrace his power.

 

I listened to the moist murmur

Of his promises of exoticisms,

As I sat close beside him on the beaches

Of Encinitas, Pensacola, and Virginia.

 

O!  I stood dumbfounded at how big his waters were—

Without an inkling of your infinite vastness,

I could never have guessed

That he is much less than a raindrop

In the palm of your hand.