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You can
die for it-
an idea,
or the world. People
have done so, brilliantly,
their small bodies be bound to the stake,
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
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

— Mary Oliver

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