The Sense of Wonder

The Sense of Wonder

They say all things are wondrous to a child. I say the sense of wonder grows with age.
The child accepts the faceless voice that speaks through telephones, takes moonwalk in his stride, nor doubts that man can fly in winged machines.
He knows the sun will rise, that spring will come and seeds will bud and bloom, assuming that they bear their fruit for him.
He takes for granted fugues and virtuosos and counts cathedral spire no greater than his tower of blocks.
While I watch with awe and wonder the flight of a bird, the birth of a child, the growth of a tree, the faith of man that conquers pain with hope and charity
Each day brings new possibilities.
Each day I see further into the universe, deeper into the heart
Each day I discover new relationships, between the flower and the child, between the present and the past, between the whole and the part between myself and others
The child asks why and he forgets to listen
The adult listens without knowing why.

Genevieve Smith Whitford