West wind by Mary Oliver

You are young, so you know everything.
You leap into the boat and begin rowing.
But, listen to me. Without fanfare, without
embarrassment, without any doubt, I talk
directly to your soul. Lift the oars from the
water, let your arms rest, and let your heart,
and heart's little intelligence, and listen to me.
There is life without love. Its not worth the
body of a dead dog nine days unburied.
When you hear, a mile away, and still out of
sight, the churn of the water as it begins to
swirl and roil, fretting around the sharp
rocks - when you hear that unmistakeable
pounding - when you feel the mist on your
mouth and sense ahead the embattlement,
the long falls plunging and streaming - then
row, row for your life toward it.