We never know how high we are Til we are called to rise; And then if we are true to plan, Our statures touch the skies. The heroism we recite Would be a daily thing, Did not ourselves the cubits warp For fear to be a king.
Setting Sail – Emily Dickinson
EXULTATION is the going Of an inland soul to sea, - Past the houses, past the headlands, Into deep eternity! Bred as we, among the mountains, Can the sailor understand The divine intoxication Of the first league out from land?
I Never Saw A Moor – Emily Dickinson
I never saw a moor, I never saw the sea; Yet know I how the heather looks, And what a wave must be. I never spoke with God, Nor visited in heaven; Yet certain am I of the spot As if the chart were given.
Being a walking question mark 