One of my all-time favorite poems, the classic Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening by Robert Frost (it is included in the children's book above, which I offered to my father several christmas' ago). It isn't especially clever or daring, but there is something about its imagery and simplicity that comforts me. Click on the comment to read the poem.
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Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.
My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.
He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there is some mistake.
The only other sound's the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake.
The woods are lovely, dark and deep.
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.
to me, it speaks of that great paradox of our lives. The great tragedy of our life is not dying but rather never being fully alive: to grow and change continuously, to risk constantly, to serve massively, and to love extravagantly. Whether or not we accept it, there is a huge calling on all of our lives. There are many a mile before we sleep.
Thanks for posting the poem. It was a good kick in the butt for me. I've just got to keep going... There are lives at stake, especially mine.
Al, you continueously find ways to shake up my days and allow me to believe in the unseen again.
I've always been a bit of a paradox myself - you know, that strange mix of idealism and cynicism - but I've been losing myself in the the latter way too much lately. It's so easy to scoff, or be jaded, or walk around 'all cool like that'. But just when I start to think that maybe there's nothing special about this life and maybe I'm wrong about everything, you allow me to go back to that child-like place where anything is possible and you just KNOW.
You are pure gold, my friend.
it's actually "cool like dat".
Dat's coo, foo!
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