THERE was a child went forth every day;And the first object he look’d upon, that object he became;
And that object became part of him for the day, or a certain part of the day, or for many years, or stretching cycles of years.
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The hurrying tumbling waves, quick-broken crests, slapping,
The strata of color’d clouds, the long bar of maroon-tint, away solitary by itself—the spread of purity it lies motionless in,
The horizon’s edge, the flying sea-crow, the fragrance of salt marsh and shore mud;
These became part of that child who went forth every day, and who now goes, and will always go forth every day.
~From "There was a Child went Forth," Walt Whitman.
Take ten minutes to read the full poem here. Time well spent for a bit of peace and beauty.
1 comment:
What a lovely poem. Thank you for sharing it.
It makes me think of my middle son who has such a love of nature and the outdoors.
When he was three, we were at the ocean walking on the beach and he found a giant piece of seaweed that had washed up on the sand. He called it "Finny" and walked that seaweed up and down the beach until it was tragically lost at sea once again (which I was secretly glad for since that meant we would not have to travel 7 hours home with a stinky piece of seaweed in the car!)
But, that seaweed became part of him for the day!
Sorry for rambling, but thanks for stirring up wonderful memories.
Sherri
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