Walt Whitman (31 May 1819 - 26 March 1892 / New York / United States)

IN the new garden, in all the parts,
In cities now, modern, I wander,
Though the second or third result, or still further, primitive yet,
Days, places, indifferent--though various, the same,
Time, Paradise, the Mannahatta, the prairies, finding me unchanged,
Death indifferent--Is it that I lived long since? Was I buried very
long ago?
For all that, I may now be watching you here, this moment;
For the future, with determined will, I seek--the woman of the
future,
You, born years, centuries after me, I seek.