Monday was my last real day of high school, the rest of the week is just full of "fun" activities like senior pool parties, senior breakfast. and graduation practice. But on Monday I had to share two lines of my last assignment in my Ap Literature Class. For our last assignment we had to take the poem "There was a child went forth" by Walt Whitman and change the content to reflect our lives. Since only my lit teacher has read it all through I wanted to share it.
"There was a child went forth"
There was a child went forth everyday
And the first object she looked upon, that object
she became.
And that object became a part of her for the day or
a certain part of the day
Or for many years or stretching cycles of years.
The white snow became part of this child,
And the sun, and the grass and juicy black berries,
and the lost and gone bird,
And the bark of the mean old dog.
And one child and another each causing trouble.
Then the valley air of Tulare and then Hanford
became a part of her.
And the adventures of the neighborhood – became a
part of this child.
Her mother and father became a part of her.
Her mother kept her busy with her projects and new
skills.
Her father’s classroom cover’d in pictures and
assignments.
Bunk beds and pirates gold, and fairy wings and
Indian headdresses
And tables full of food and laughter, and cards and
jokes
And fighting and screaming and slamming doors
And hugs and kisses and family movie night.
And all the time they spent together became a part
of this child.
Her two elementary schools,
One that she loved, and one that she came to love.
Classrooms with a kitchen and paper trees growing
inside along the walls
Certificates of citizenship and mistakes and pulling
a card
Friend after friend became a part of this child.
Floating phrases such as “Scholz’s daughter” and
“Little Scholz”
And flying food across the cafeteria and watching
wall ball and purple fuzzy sweatshirts.
A pink notebook full of secrets, drawings, and life.
Sitting in the same place every day with a group of
girls.
Those girls became a part of this child.’
Taking a chance and her first time on a real stage.
And practicing, and critiquing, and changing, and
preforming again.
Classes with the same people slowly shrinking each
year,
And tests and projects and cleaning fitting rooms
and drama and planning for the near future
Finding people who cared about her and finding
sisters she didn’t know she had
Love and loss and faith and fear became a part of
this child.
The fear of moving 747 miles and 12 hours away and
the excitement of being on her own
The thought of dirty dishes still being cleaned
without her and her stuff in boxes somewhere
Boxes full of new towels and sheets and tights and more
tights and more tights
And a head full of ideas and plans for a future life
that is too far to touch but close enough to see.
A reassurance of being able to come home to family
and friends and open arms.
Moving on became a part of this child.
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| Baby Michaella! |
There is definitely an art to poetry and trust me I'm still learning but its good to reflect where we are in our lives. I would advise you to write down how you feel, document your life because we change daily and its fun to be able to look back on what we thought and felt.
Give it a try!
