by Mary Oliver

Original Language English

You can
die for it--
an idea,
or the world. People

have done so,
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

-- from New and Selected Poems, by Mary Oliver

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/ Image by Zach Dischner /

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Commentary by Ivan M. Granger

We just had a full moon. It was beautiful wasn't it? And the equinox too. Time to unleash your wild side. Dance under the moonlight. Shout to greet the sunrise. Embarrass yourself and your neighbors. When will you have a better excuse?

Me, I am going to recite poetry with friends. Words are just words, but the breath they ride on, now that's dangerous!

What is the name
of the deep breath I would take
over and over
for all of us?

More than anything else, the bold act of a deep breath is a proclamation of being, of self, of presence, when so much conspires to sweep you into negation. Rebels breathe deeply. It is another way to enter fire.

Recommended Books: Mary Oliver

New and Selected Poems Why I Wake Early Dream Work House of Light Thirst: Poems
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