Among the men and women, the multitude, I perceive one picking me out by secret and divine signs, Acknowledging none else — not parent, wife, husband… - Walt Whitman

Some are baffled, but that one is not — that one knows me.
Ah lover and perfect equal,
I meant that you should discover me so by faint indirections.

On the beach at night alone,
As the old mother sways her to and fro singing her husky song,
As I watch the bright stars shining, I think a thought of the clef of the universes and of the future.

A vast similitude interlocks all,

All distances of place however wide,
All distances of time,

All souls, all living bodies though they be ever so different,

All nations,

All identities that have existed or may exist

All lives and deaths, all of the past, present, future,
This vast similitude spans them, and always has spann'd,
And shall forever span them and compactly hold and enclose them.

O to have life henceforth a poem of new joys! To dance, clap hands, exult, shout, skip, leap, roll on, float on! To be a sailor of the world bound for all ports, A ship itself, (see indeed these sails I spread to the sun and air,) A swift and swelling ship full of rich words, full of joys.

WHAT am I, after all, but a child, pleas’d with the sound of my own name? repeating it over and over;
I stand apart to hear — it never tires me.
To you, your name also;
Did you think there was nothing but two or three pronunciations in the sound of your name?