Robert Frost: 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.
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.
For some reason, I woke up with this poem and the idea of posting it stuck in my mind. I don’t know why or where is came from but the idea won’t go away. For me, when I become possessed by something, an idea or an action, I need to do it. It happens all the time with my stories.
I had no intention of writing the novel I’m working on now. It started, years ago, as a short story but recently, the idea to continue took over my thoughts. Every day I was thinking of scenes, of character names, of conflict, relationships and the world. The characters came alive. They railed together and laid siege on my mind. No mater how I fought, how much I ignored them, how hard I shoved them down, they wouldn’t die. So I started writing and find, even though it’s a draft, I really like it.
Hope you enjoyed the poem. (Like the poem, like the novel, these photos spoke to me, I had to include them.)
