Baylee is studying the late 1800’s in history, and because his workload this new semester is quite giant, I’ve opted to not introduce a novel and do some poetry instead.
Poetry is shorter than prose most of the time, but it contains no less depth or meaning. In many cases, less words means more significance. Also, poetry is richer and more raw in comparison to what’s told in history books. It was written in dark rooms, hospitals, and on battlefields about true trials of the times back then. I had to choose the best poet to complement his studies.
Recent conversations about mortality because of the new world we’re living in has led me back to my favorite poet, Emily Dickinson. Her works were discovered after she died so her poems were all published posthumously. My favorite by her is quite basic, yes, but there’s a reason it’s so popular: It is true and timeless and telling. People, not Miss E, call it “Because I could not stop for Death.”
Dickinson didn’t title her poetry, so people sometimes use her first line as the title. (An awkward task, I’m sure, for the one who writes the table of contents.) She talks about death with nonchalance and how we can’t plan for it. Her chill attitude in writing creates an eerie yet almost comical, matter-of-fact read. Either way, I love it. Click here to read it.
Miss Emily is correct, though, we can’t plan for death sometimes, and instead of crouching down in a dark corner hiding from it, maybe we should look at it as a message to live in the light. Let death look at us and think, “Not that one, she’s having way too much fun. We’ll come back for her later.”
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