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Today




Today I’m flying low and I’m not saying a word. I’m letting all the voodoos of ambition sleep.

The world goes on as it must, the bees in the garden rumbling a little, the fish leaping, the gnats getting eaten. And so forth.

But I’m taking the day off. Quiet as a feather. I hardly move though really I’m traveling a terrific distance.

Stillness. One of the doors into the temple.


Today, by Mary Oliver


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