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Here you will find the writings of the poet Theodore Waterfield

A Perfect Summer Day

I am fermented with the earth,
with time,
so I speak thoughtlessly,
like walking, I take the journey
of my legs.
I stop when my heart commands it.
I see only what my eyes wish to see.
I am a passive traveler.
I lay in the sun like a stone,
like a roof shining in the sun.
My body is a trellis of veins.
If you ask where I’ve been,
I don’t remember,
I don’t know.

The world mixes itself in me
and I am what I am,
a star covered up with leaves.
A star buried in the warm aroma
of the dirt.
A star with its light kept in a shadow,
behind a gate.
A star that knows how the world began.
A kiss that awakened it.
A call that gave it a name.
A room meant only for itself,
and a face lost in the ocean
with no way back.
A road that leaves nothing behind,
doors that exit from nothing.

But I still want the air of the earth
to cover me.
I want the voices that come on the wind
to sing.
I want the hard firm shake of a hand
to greet me and say goodbye.
I have run out of old thoughts.
I have given everything away.
I am ready to be born to a happy face,
to an old tree.
To look up and never see the end
of everything beginning.
It is time invisible light becomes visible.
To give someone a dawn to look into,
and a place
for my heart to fall in the sea.

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