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Here you will find the writings of the poet Theodore Waterfield

The Fisherman

I put the fishhook in the water
to catch silence.
To rest something in my heart
that needed resting.
It is the fisherman’s code
to be patient,
so I demanded nothing of the water,
the fishhook,
or the orbits drifting from the line.
And the day joined me
grateful that I had stopped,
was sitting still.

It had wares it wanted to show me.
How diaphanous the clouds
wore their dress.
How the moon changed into a fog
with perfect cheeks.
How unafraid the birds became
and looked for bits of seed
by my feet.
And how unafraid the quiet in my heart
became and listened to me breathe.
And I was catching what every fisherman wants,
a giant peace
at the end of his line.

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