Stuck

I'm up against it day by day, My ignorance is distressing; The things I don't know on the way I'm busily confessing. Time was I used to think I knew Some useful bits of knowledge And could be sure of one or two Real facts I'd gleaned in college. But I'm unfitted for the task Of answering things my boy can ask. Now, who can answer queries queer That four-year-olds can think up? And tell in simple phrase and clear Why fishes do not drink up The water in the streams and lakes, Or where the wind is going, And tell exactly how God makes The roses that are growing? I'm sure I cannot satisfy Each little when, and how, and why. Had I the wisdom of a sage Possessed of all the learning That can be gleaned from printed page From bookworm's closest turning, That eager knowledge-seeking lad That questions me so gayly Could still go round and boast he had With queries floored me daily. He'll stick, I'll bet, in less than five Brief minutes any man alive.