Sunrise by Mary Oliver

Still sick but can’t wait for the noche buena to start. The wine is chilled, Home Alone’s on the TV. The family is more than complete – I couldn’t ask for more. So — Merry Christmas :)

Sunrise
Mary Oliver

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.

1 Comment

  1. This is the first time i’ve come across this Oliver poem, while searching for a way to vocalise my wonder for sunrises on my blog. Thank you for sharing! :)

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