DUCKS AND POETRY

 

For years, every morning, I drank 

from Blackwater Pond.  

It was flavored with oak leaves 

and also, no doubt, the feet of ducks.

And always it assuaged me 

from the dry bowl of the very far past.

What I want to say is

that the past is the past,

and the present is what your life is,

and you are cable 

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.

And live

your life.

"Mornings at Blackwater" 

by 

Mary Oliver