I am reading Walt Whitman's beautiful poem "Song of Myself" today. What makes the song of myself beautiful is that it is a song of oneness. Here is one stanza from it, in which the poet adorns the oneness of thought. He says:
These are really the thoughts of all men in all ages and lands, they
are not original with me,
If they are not yours as much as mine they are nothing, or next
If they are not the riddle and the untying of the riddle they are
If they are not just as close as they are distant they are nothing.
This is the grass that grows wherever the land is and the water is,
This the common air that bathes the globe.