At long last! As seen at the Royal Albert Hall (aka the celery poem), this is the first poem I wrote when I found out my wife was pregnant, and wanted to work out what possible advice to give somebody on entering this glorious, messy, fragile, complicated, wonderful world. Available both as the full text and a standalone line - in both a phenomenal pink and a classy cream - with a discount for a matching set. This poem is also available (alongside many others) in my book called Wonderful.

A3 Unframed print - Printed on 100% recycled and FSC paper in Leeds UK.

Full text reads:

May you always picture where you are as where you’re meant to be.

May you take in your surroundings like you visited especially.

We all end up in the soil eventually, so may you

carry such goodness that it nourishes for centuries.

May you see life as a show and may the entry fee be empathy,

sat front row with an empty seat for friends in need.

When you’re on form, be generous and spread that energy.

When you’re not sure, be gentle with yourself

and don’t forget to breathe.

You need not be defined by your many feats; you are not a centipede.

There is a joy in doing something terribly.

May you share brews and bruises and may you do this tenderly.

You are the most improved you there has ever been.

Of all the words you’ll ever hear, remember these:

life is too short to eat celery.

Life is too long to feed jealousy.

Life is likely just the right length to need therapy.

May you be seriously silly, may you be wickedly kind.

May you be brilliantly dumb sometimes and yet stupidly bright.

May you certainly have doubts, may your weirdness be the norm.

May the coolest thing about you be your warmth.

May you be powerfully vulnerable, or at least mightily soft.

May you be a contradiction, and yet at the same time not.

And, whether you are any, none or all of the above,

above all, may you know that you are loved.

May you understand that it’s okay to change your mind.

And thank you in advance for all the ways you’re changing mine.

May you always make room for playfulness.

It may just save your life.

And trust whatever makes your heart grow cannot be a waste of time.

It may not make you money. It may not even make sense.

But if it makes you happy it is worth it in the end.

And it is worth it at the time, and it deserves your very best.

And you are never too busy to catch your breath.

Just as you cannot be in traffic without being traffic,

life is not something that you are stuck in while it happens.

There is more in you than you could possibly imagine.

The very fact that you exist makes everything a bit more magic.

When it all feels too much and there is little you can do,

may you still see the best in people and may people include you.

May one thing match the gravity of all you’ve ever done.

This wonderful reality: the best is yet to come.

Harry Baker