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The Journey
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One day you finally knew
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what you had to do, and began,
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though the voices around you
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kept shouting
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their bad advice—
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though the whole house
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began to tremble
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and you felt the old tug
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at your ankles.
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"Mend my life!"
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each voice cried.
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But you didn't stop.
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You knew what you had to do,
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though the wind pried
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with its stiff fingers
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at the very foundations—
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though their melancholy
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was terrible.
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It was already late
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enough, and a wild night,
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and the road full of fallen
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branches and stones.
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But little by little,
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as you left their voices behind,
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the stars began to burn
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through the sheets of clouds,
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and there was a new voice,
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which you slowly
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recognized as your own,
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that kept you company
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as you rode deeper and deeper
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into the world,
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determined to do
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the only thing you could do—
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determined to save
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the only life you could save.
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Mary Oliver, Dream Work
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