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Here you will find the writings of the poet Theodore Waterfield

Walt Whitman

Where did you come from?
Stranded poet.
When did it happen?
That you turned your face to the world
and said, repeat after me.
Then closed your eyes,
and the water that fell from them
were pieces of truth.
As true as any a child can be.
Or the man that hides the child.

I’m not sure if you pushed the world away,
crying, let me be myself!
Or if the wind of creation
blew through your pores enveloping you,
and on the other side of yourself
words were scattered here and there
on stipends of paper.
Written in sand,
said silently to the grass
that grew up to your eyes.

And you looked through the blades
and said,
that will do,
whatever grows here grows everywhere.
And everything is an ingot of love,
of mercy,
of beauty.
And you died, leaving behind
what was left of your heart.

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