Self (Ursula K. Le Guin)
You cannot measure the circumference
but there are centerpoints:
stones, and a woman washing at a ford,
the water runs red-brown from what she washes.
The mouths of caves. The mouths of bells.
The sky in winter under snowclouds
to northward, green of jade.
No star is farther from it than the glint
of mica in a pebble in the hand,
or nearer. Distance is my god.
(Ursula K. Le Guin, Hard Words and other poems)