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Backwards

A curious child, bored and uninspired, Grasped a pen and a blank sheet of paper. With a flick of the wrist, he began to draw, Making small dots upon the page, unsure of what was in store.

But as he connected each dot with a line, A diamond shape began to take form. He smiled with pride as he looked upon his creation, A masterpiece born from idle exploration.

Years passed and the boy grew into a man, Sitting beside his computer, lost in thought. A flash of inspiration brought him back to that day, When he first discovered the beauty of the shape he had wrought.

He picked up his brush, and with a steady hand, Began to recreate the shape once more. Each stroke a memory, each line a reminder, Of the wonder and joy he felt as a boy before.

With a final flourish, he sat back and admired, His new creation, a work of art. And as he looked upon it, he felt a sense of triumph, For he had captured the magic of the child in his heart.

Imagine holding a pen and drawing with it backwards, As if each layer of ink would lay under the stroke before, A dance between past and present, A fusion of childhood wonder and adult mastery, forevermore.

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