Backwards by Asaf Slook

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.