They Write in Dust, the Wind Decides.

To leap knowing the ground will hold, 

To name the stars without being told.

To see a castle in a cloud’s embrace,

And never ask if it’s out of place.

This was my original poem, just a few lines explores the innocence and beauty of being a child. From there I transformed my poem to something, well completely different, as written below:

Lines drawn with sticks and dirt aglow,

Tell stories only a young eye can’t miss.

Bewitched by natures pleasant hue,

The gift of ignorance paints their fingers.

With this they discover something bygone,

Claim it vain in an imitating blow.

Smiles reflect what they surmise,

Doleful is, the true unknown.

Originally, when I wrote this poem, I wanted to capture the beauty of the innocence found in children that they no longer have when they’re older, but I think instead I showed their ignorance to real world problems and the reality of growing older and facing these problems. Although it wasn’t my first intention to write a poem about losing innocence and the struggles that come with it, I really like how my poem turned out and I’m relatively proud of it.

Connecting back to Rosal’s essay, “Art of the Mistake”, I think the part that resonated the most with me when first reading the essay and when rereading the essay after writing my poem was the mention of Dickinson‘s line, “Tell all the truth but tell it slant.” I think my poem relates to this quote by balancing joy of childhood with undertones of loss in my 5th and 6th lines. The children are attempting to capture something, something found in the past that they don’t realize, maybe like the unknowable histories beneath their feet, which still remains out of reach. This relates to Rosal’s interpretation of Dickinson‘s line, where language bends around mystery rather than resolving it.