01 September 2016

Longing.

Turner, Sea: Morning, 1833


MORNINGS at BLACKWATER

For years, every morning, I drank
from Blackwater Pond.
it was flavored with oak leaves and also, no doubt,
 feet of ducks.

And always it assuaged me
from the dry bowl of the very far past.

What I want to say is
 the past is the past,
and the present is what your life is,
and you are capable
of choosing what that will be,
darling citizen.

So come to the pond
or the river of your imagination
or the harbor of your longing,

and put your lips to the world.

Mary Oliver

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