A full sail bellies out at the very top of the mast. Jupiter, the part of you that throws the chest open and says yes before anyone tallies the cost, lands square on the meridian, the visible heading your work crests toward. Largeness and the public peak hold one degree, fused into a single act of showing up. Step into your vocation and you step out a size too big for the frame, room to spare, a grin that expects the table to feed everyone. The world reads you from down the street as someone who brings good weather to the work. Precise measure is not your gift up there. The open-handedness you carry into the public eye is unmistakable, yours alone.