The poet Walt Whitman prided himself on being “great”. “I contain multitudes”, he said. One critic compared it to “an entire continent with its waters, its trees and its animals”. Responding to Whitman, Sagittarius poet Gertrud Kolmar boasted just as grandly. “I too am a continent”, he wrote. “I contain mountains that have never been climbed, spots that have never been explored, bays of ponds, deltas of rivers, coastal tongues rich in salt”. This is how I imagine you these days, dear Sagittarius: like an unexplored territory, a frontier land full of mysteries to be discovered. I like you when you open your mind and heart to new self-definitions. I love how willing you are to risk being unknowable for a while as you drift away in the direction of the future.