Sunrise
You can
die for it
--
an idea,
or the world. People
have done
so,
brilliantly,
letting
their small bodies be bound
to the
stake,
creating
an unforgettable
fury of light. But
this morning,
climbing
the familiar hills
in the familiar
fabric of dawn, I thought
of China,
and
India
and Europe, and I thought
how the sun
blazes
for everyone
just
so joyfully
as it rises
under the lashes
of my
own eyes, and I thought
I am so many!
What is my name?
What is the name
of the
deep breath I would take
over and over
for all of us? Call it
whatever you want, it
is
happiness, it is another one
of the ways to enter
fire.
~ Mary Oliver ~
(New and Selected Poems, Volume
I)
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