The Child Is Father of the Man

So Wordsworth knew, for every man will carry still that child within him as he grew, and molded with an insight few will trace beyond the purview of his reason...himself assembling that which is his own. What is its origin? What magic of the mind takes place? There is within us something that we do not understand...From our childhood it is there--churning silently, building in directions that we cannot see, until as adults it bursts out as one more copy of humanity! So there it is...to search the child; to keep him free, of course. But thereby to probe the mystery. To range about the mythic mountain peaks where light first touches, seek the glories of angelic song, bask the harbors where the ships of fortune enter, this my joyous task, and then to hunger still, and know there is a mind to fill, and each of us may grow a little more, and have a now to make it so. ~