YESTERDAY, I saw the face of the ocean,
As I drove along the borderline. Someone, who has never written a poem
Spoke to me in poetic terms
As the Atlantic awakened in him expressions
Of love for the lovely, and to me was given the gift,
To view beauty from another, a rare experience.

Then later, some called me a poet, disgracing me;
For what am I, in the presence of poets
But a fallen leaf on the ground suitable for nothing.

But in the presence of the Ocean, even a glimpse,
I am overcome with the power of powers
I see strength unattainable
I see depths of mysteries
And I am reborn to be
What I desire not to be.