Mornings at Blackwater by Mary Oliver
"For years, every morning, I drank
from the Blackwater Pond.
It was flavored with oak leaves and also, no doubt,
the feet of ducks.
And always, is 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,
So come to the pond,
or the river of your imagination,
or the harbor of your longing,
and put your lips to the world.
Happy Weekend, pallies.