"say father, there's poetry in our family isn't it?" father says, "yes son, from the tops of our heads to the tips of our toes"

son says, "what a masterful gene to have flowing in your veins, as great as the billowing sea if not greater."

father says, "well perhaps as great as the sea, but not greater."

son says, "has your age ebbed your strength? 

do you not conceive that the earth is not swallowed in the sea's surging liquid mass while the poet encompasses worlds 

he wears the stars for a crown but searches the darkness for a light."

father says to son that the is bound by its shores 

but the poet is also bound , 

bound by his gift.