One day I saw a ship pass close by...

For a long time I stood staring
with the same unhurried green I look by with:
first the nails, the toes, the knuckles.
I love the ship.
Oh !
I say.
Ah, this ship is a beautiful thing !
She teeters nimbly
She is the wag of the seductress
I gather everyone around me
Look, look at the ship,
and then say I don't know what I'm talking about;
because in the end it touched me,
and it walks with no feet across the mass of soft water.
One night,
before I lay down,
I had - like a vision or a ship - a feeling.
The conjoining of silent interjections,
utmost vocatives, 
stammering,
I cry out:
Oh It's Thou !
Oh It's Thee !
---my throat hurts for crying---
It occurred to me in the blackness of the night
that I was being ---,
that a greater will wants me.
Oh Mercy, I say,
and press my thoughts on you
O love, I let you caress me,
a vision fading now,
clear, illogical,
as genuine as the ship.