For two years I’ve been wanting to address my fascination with watery reflections. I’m finally taking the time and energy to address this self-assigned challenge. Here, then is my version of Oliver’s work; these, my efforts to quench my thirst by sipping at waters, no doubt, flavored by the feet of seagulls; my sitting at the harbor of my longing.
Mornings at Blackwater
by Mary Oliver
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,
So come to the pond
or the river of your imagination
or the harbor of your longing,
and put your lips to the world.
Focusing on these reflections and attempting to represent them is not unlike the sentiments of this song, Both Sides Now