The Prelude

Presently I'm reading the Prelude by William Wordsworth. The Prelude, it represents a poetic spiritual autobiography of his development. I don't focus on the interpretation as much as I try and focus on what it conjures up in my own soul. It calls me to embrace the solitude that i'm experiencing; the actuality, the imminent. What is the medium one calls to take him/her to a higher realm of thought? Does one choose to even go? It is in our soul to go. This is the divine we search for in nature. That feeling of exile we experience in our loneliness.