Mornings at Blackwater
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 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.
And live
your life.
Beautiful poem. Beautiful photograph.
ReplyDeleteLovely post. Lovely words-the past is the past, the present is your life and the future is up to you.
ReplyDeleteThank you for the inspiration.
Cristine
That is a beautiful poem. The more times that I read it the more I like it
ReplyDeleteYou had me at hello.
ReplyDeleteSo far, I've stalked your Etsy, your Flickr, now your blog and I'm on to your Facebook.
Just thought I'd admit that.
xo
Oh my goodness this is so beautiful and inspiring. It feels as if it gives one permission to start again. And, not only that but to embrace starting again. My youngest will be leaving for college in September so this is very timely for me.
ReplyDeleteWow, I take this with me from know on...Thank you for the beauty - in the words and the pictures!
ReplyDeleteAndreas
This is so beautiful !:)
ReplyDelete