U.S. Poet Laureate Ada Limón is no stranger to tough writing prompts, but few have been as challenging as the one she received from NASA: crafting a poem that would be engraved on the side of the Europa Clipper. The space probe will explore Jupiter’s moon Europa for signs of life. Though Limón initially found the assignment an intimidating prospect, the resulting verse is a profoundly moving meditation on our place in the universe and the beauty of the unknown. It’s also given her the opportunity to connect with a new, younger readership: She recently made her picture-book debut with In Praise of Mystery (Norton Young Readers, Oct. 1), an adaptation of the poem illustrated by Peter Sís.

While the work is ultimately intended for the farthest reaches of the solar system, it’s rooted in her love for Earth—and her commitment to keeping it safe. “We’re nothing if we don’t have our planet,” Limón told Kirkus via Zoom from her home in Glen Ellen, California. “And I think that we have to really reimagine our connection to it, reinforce our connection to it.” The following conversation has been edited for length and clarity.

What were your first thoughts when NASA approached you?

I’ve always been fascinated by the stars, the planets, and by space in general. So I immediately said yes and then had the full-fledged fear that comes with accepting an enormous prompt. They had given me some guidelines. [The poem] had to be, I think, under 200 words. They wanted it to be written at the fourth grade level. And they also wanted it to include water in some way, because the mission’s central interest and curiosity is water.

I had many, many drafts, most of them terrible, because I was making it a NASA poem. It was my husband who said, “You need to stop writing a NASA poem and start writing a poem you’d actually write.” That’s when I recognized that what I’m most passionate about, and what I truly believe in my heart, is that this planet is the best planet. And so the poem, even though it’s going outward, had to be in praise of this Earth.

Many people think of space as cold and sterile; in your poem, it’s anything but.

I was thinking about what it was to be on this Earth and looking at the stars and having those moments—whether we’re alone, whether we’re in love, whether we’ve just lost someone, whether we’re a child, or whether we’re at the end of our life. I wanted that not to be a lonely thing, but a thing that offers connection.

What was it like to adapt the poem into picture-book format?

I submitted the whole poem to my publisher, and they said that Peter Sís was interested. They asked me, “Do you have any rules or creative prompts for him?” And I said, “No, I think he’s so talented, and I’m just excited to see what his imagination will do.” He sent initial paintings as he went, and with each one, I thought, I couldn’t have asked for anything better. My publisher did ask me about line breaks, because, of course, the line breaks shift when you’re creating a children’s book. I always deferred to how it looked with the painting itself. I surrendered my line breaks and instead let the form flow with the illustrations.

Did you approach this poem differently from your other works, knowing you were writing at a younger level?

[NASA] asked just that it could be read at a fourth grade level. I didn’t necessarily write it for children, but I did think about them. One of the things that has brought me the most joy is that [In Praise of Mystery] feels like a children’s book, and it also feels like it’s for everybody. It feels like an art book, and it feels like a science book, and it feels like a poetry book. I would love to write more for children. It’s easy for me, I think, to speak to a younger audience, because I’ve always been interested in writing for all people.

Many people think of art and science as two separate things, but in your book, you make it clear they’re intertwined. Why is it important to honor both?

They both begin with curiosity, and there’s a sense of exploration, but I think that they have to be combined in a way that science can make room for our emotions. [Science] can make space for our souls’ need to be recognized. And art can make room for the potential for change and the potential for our imagination to shift consciousness.

Do you believe we’re alone in the universe?

I don’t know what I believe. I love the mystery of not knowing. And there’s something about giving up to the idea that we don’t know everything that’s kind of wonderful. I do know that we’re all connected, whether we’re part of this planet or part of this universe. We’re connected by what we do and how we act. And I hope, if there is life outside our planet, that that [type of] life understands how much we love our Earth. It might not seem like that, but we truly love it. That’s one of the things I wanted this book to elucidate.

Earlier this year, you edited the anthology You Are Here: Poetry in the Natural World, and you also launched You Are Here: Poetry in Parks, an initiative in partnership with the Poetry Society of America, the Library of Congress, and the National Park Service, which has placed poetry installations in seven national parks. Why were those projects so important?

Our relationship to the natural world has become so bifurcated and divided that it’s dangerous, because we don’t see how we have an impact on the earth, and therefore we don’t see how we have an impact on each other. I’m passionate about not only protecting our environment and talking about the climate crisis, but also about advocating for more imagination, advocating for opening up the limitless possibilities of what we can do, of how we can do it, and what systems and structures need to change in order for us to be better stewards of this planet.

You toured several national parks this summer. How have people responded to the installations?

One of the things that has really surprised me is how far people have traveled to come to the unveilings. I’d [earlier] met someone at Smith College in Massachusetts, and she’d always wanted to go to the Redwoods. I talked about this project onstage, and many months later there she was [at the unveiling]. She said, “This was my opportunity to come visit the Redwoods for the first time.”

What role do artists have when it comes to protecting our planet?

I think that all artists need to focus on what it is that they’re truly passionate about. It can be overwhelming for any artist to feel they must solve all the problems happening right now. We should intertwine our art and our activism in ways that feel authentic. Whatever our passions are, that’s what’s going to come through and connect with a wider audience. 

Mahnaz Dar is a young readers’ editor.