Islands move in your wake; dead birds and whales,
mountains and stars gather in your drag.
You are captain, crew, vessel and grave;
thou art God, O question mark, Great Leveler
of galactic seas, I am yours! May I roll forever,
tickling froth about your keel, curled wind
within your sail and sand beneath your hull.

Thou art God, and I a man doing small work
for smaller reasons and returns. Let me not want
for lack of a period