Wherever you go, there you are.
This week I am traveling, so I have prepared a post which will be easy for me and, I hope, thought provoking for you. You might not know that my first vocation was English teacher; I have never entirely gotten past that.
The following poem has been in my mental library for decades. Every time I come back to it, a new concept emerges or an old insight strikes me with additional force.
If I ask you “What is this poem about?” you gentle readers might well have dozens of different answers, and next year this time another set of answers. It is a facile, flexible poem with lots of implications. I invite you to read through it again, even — or especially – if you “know it.” I will be happy to hear what emerges afresh for you.
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.
Because there are so many possibilities I hesitate to “restrict” your responses by adding any of my own comments — but I cannot resist. Here is one of my favorite Mary Engelbreit illustrations. This could well have started with Frost’s poem, but has its own insights, too. May you be refreshed in your journey!
Boundaries divide. Travel unites.
25 April 2013