Against the vastness of the ocean wide
(A symbol of the seamless universe),
I cannot help but sense my size implied
When face to face do I and it converse.
The common trope would say I am a speck
Of senseless dust amid the cosmos’ sands;
Yet blow away each single sandy fleck,
And what is left in here but bleak rock wastelands?
One grain minutely shifts the shape of all
The rest, so one grain blown away, the rest
Rests not itself. And I’m not sand: if small
The sea can show me, I live to attest.
I sense, and
judge, and understand; in terse,
I am the nexus of my universe.
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