Déjà Vu

As I perused the list of reading for Tuesday's class, I had a strong sense that I had seen something before. It turned out to be a few things. My high school Lit teacher had prepared me well, it seemed- four out of the seven poems on the list had been read by my class in high school. I particularly remembered reading Brooks' "We Real Cool." I had been the one selected to read it out loud to the class, and then after we listened to a recording of different people reading it. The class also talked for a long time about the meaning behind it. We also covered Wordsworth's "I Wandered Lonely as a Cloud," Whitman's "I Celebrate Myself, and Sing Myself," and Dickinson's "Because I Could Not Stop For Death." As I read, I silently thanked Mrs. Brown for covering such thoughtful and useful poems during the poetry section of class. 
I remember having a hard time understanding Whitman's poem the first time I read it. However, this time, it came much more easily (at least, I hope). I connected with Whitman over the absolute love he feels for the very essence of life around him. While reading, I imagined Whitman himself doing this while reciting:

While it was a very entertaining image,it's amazing that he has a sense of the connection with everything around him. He writes of the atoms that make up every one of us, and makes us the same as not only each other, but also as the squirrel we see in our yards, the coffee pot that makes our morning brew, and the grass we walk on. Not only does he sense it, he revels in it. It made me appreciate the poem more by being able to read it again after months had passed. Whitman truly possessed a love and understanding of everything around him.