Sunday, October 4, 2009
TWO roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;
Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,
And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.
I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.
Author: Robert Frost
Lately, I am taken back to a little school in Nova Scotia, to my grade 5 discovery of this, my most favorite of poems..."The Road Not Taken".
Even then, at such a formative age, this poem held such meaningful imagery .
I remember wishing I could paint all that it brought to my imagination.
I have been pressed, it would seem on every side, by the burden of seeing a harvest in loved ones' lives that is anything but desirable.
I have questioned myself, God and others about the stark differences between my life and theirs that have at times threatened to overwhelm me.
Today, I ponder Robert Frost's poem and it's meaning as well as imagery once again...could the answer be that simple?
I chose a different path.