I'm now looking down the road of my life and I see a fork coming up. The road to the right is well worn and many have gone that route. It is the easy route, with few hills and valleys along the way. It is paved with smooth stones and has grassy sides, so that if I miss my footing, I will not harm myself severely. I like that road. I can see far down into the future and it is safe, as far as I can see.
But safe never interested me, so I'm going to take to road to the left. It is littered with sharp rocks and on the right side, there is a cliff that reaches to the heavens. On the left side of the road, there is a cape that drops sheer into the depths of hell. There will be steep mountains to climb and flat, burning sands to cross. Of this I am certain. Just as I am certain that this is my way.
The following poem has meaning to me, at this junction in my life, because I too, am at a 'Fork in the road' of my life and I have great life changing decisions to make. I have to decide which road to take, with the knowledge that I will not ever know what would befall me on the
The following poem has meaning to me, at this junction in my life, because I too, am at a 'Fork in the road' of my life and I have great life changing decisions to make. I have to decide which road to take, with the knowledge that I will not ever know what would befall me on the
The Road Not Taken
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.
Robert Frost (1874–1963). Mountain Interval. 1920.
8 comments:
I too chose the unknown route in life. Playing safe never had the same appeal as living on the edge. And I'm so glad I made that choice. I'd rather not know what tomorrow will bring.
Forks are tough and there sure is no way of knowing...the unknown always had more appeal to me...good luck!
I tiptoe onto those jagged cliff-top paths when I can, on the weekends and holidays, you know...but I secure a rope onto the plains! Enjoyed your thoughts.
Oh Wynn wonder were you are up too. I am a bit in the middle. With some things I take big risks, such as imigrating to New Zealand. With other things I like the comfort of the welknown (like my job) Wish you all the luck
Right now, I am having the same dillemma. There is a fork, I do not know which one to take..
fluted
Oh what a beautiful read of The road not taken. I think I like this post heaps Gimme and that I will return many times.
Thanks for stopping by .....
Gimme I love this. I think that all of us hit that fork in the road and the decisions have to be made. Robert Frost is one of my favorite poets of all time.
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