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Here you will find the writings of the poet Theodore Waterfield


I celebrate the birthday of everything!
The first snowflake that ever fell
and lived for only a moment.
The blowing of a jar
from a cauldron of fire.
How it longed to be born,
become clearer than the air,
a mystery of light.
The birth of a new tree
whose seed wings tell it to soar,
how small this little bird of green,
that will outlive centuries.
To be born as a stone
whose face will be a sapphire
or a man whose heart will burst with words.

I celebrate creation,
to the stopping of time,
the opening of doors,
the moment the soul discovers a flower,
epiphanies of love,
to rings made of gold,
and betrothals.

I celebrate the birth of friends
and great bridges,
and the peaks of mountains,
where everything is seen
and never forgotten.
The birth of a day,
and the first night of a new star.
I celebrate beginnings
and unfoldings,
and send everything my greetings,
thanking the world
for what has been born,
and being what they are.

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