Like most lovers, couples, partners, Maria and I have our sacred places. Both Bedlam Farms, the Studio Barns, an old inn in Vermont, Crystal Hill. Perhaps the most sacred is Blackwater Pond, the place immortalized by Mary Oliver in her famous poem “Mornings At Blackwater.” We read it to one another at our wedding, it hangs on our kitchen wall, it lives in our hearts and love for one another, it almost perfectly expresses our feelings about life.

There is, in the real world, no such place as Blackwater Pond, not in or around Provincetown where Mary Oliver lives most of the time and where she wrote “Mornings At Blackwater.” The pond that inspired the poem is part of the Cape Cod National Seashore, it is a beautiful and quiet pond off of the Beech Forest Trail in the seashore, the park rangers helped us find it. It is covered with lily pads at this time of year, it is still and spiritual, surrounded by white birches.

Maria and I go there whenever we can, this was our third visit. We hiked around the pond, as we always do, and then we sit quietly there, on a grass embankment. We read poems to one another and reaffirm our love for one another and for our lives.

I suppose the visit had some special meaning this summer, it is an important summer for us, and a challenging one. My heart surgery brought the meaning of life into focus, and reminded us of the fragility and precious nature of time. Open heart surgery is a spiritual experience, if it does not change you, then your soul is deadened. I came close to losing my life this summer, and I am reminded to choose what my life will be, and live it.

For me, another reminder to face life squarely and live it well and thoughtfully. And bravely. We are also coming to terms with the reality of the first Bedlam Farm – it has not sold in nearly three years – and we  see that we cannot continue on in this way, we must face the reality of our lives and figure out what to do about this beloved place.

Mary Oliver’s beautiful poem is a call to life. “What I want to say,” she writes, “is that the past is the past, and the present is what your life is, and you are capable of choosing what will be, darling citizen.”

And then this, the verses I read to Maria at Blackwater Pond:

“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.”

In a real sense, our visit to Blackwater Pond was a pilgrimage. It is our song, our anthem. We come to the pond, and live in the river of our imagination, our love is the harbor of our longing. When we met, when we came together, we decided that the past was the past, and the present was what our life is, and it is up to us to choose what that life will be, no matter the cost or the consequence. And we are enriched, wealthy beyond our imagination.

We have put our lips to the world, we are living our life.