Robert Frost poem
 

Robert Frost (1874–1963). Mountain Interval. 1920.

Robert Frost (1874–1963). Mountain Interval. 1920.

1. 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; 5

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, 10

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. 15

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.



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; 5

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, 10

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. 15

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 poem
 

Sis. Alvear,

I have always loved this poem. Thanks for posting it!

Not everyone will choose the road less traveled but it

will truly make all the difference in our lives. It is a narrow

road, a blessed road and it will lead us HOME! It is the way

of the cross.

Blessings,

Falla39

Robert Frost poem
 

I'm reminded of an old song written by Jessie B. Pounds in 1906 entitled

"The Way Of The Cross Leads Home". As a child I can remember my

grandmother and parents singing this old hymn:


I must needs go home by the way of the cross,
There’s no other way but this;
I shall ne’er get sight of the Gates of Light,
If the way of the cross I miss.

Refrain:
The way of the cross leads home,
The way of the cross leads home;
It is sweet to know, as I onward go,
The way of the cross leads home.

I must needs go on in the blood-sprinkled way,
The path that the Savior trod,
If I ever climb to the heights sublime,
Where the soul is at home with God.

Then I bid farewell to the way of the world,
To walk in it nevermore;
For my Lord says, “Come,” and I seek my home,
Where He waits at the open door.

Blessings,

Falla39

Sis. Alvear,

This is one of my favorite, if not The favorite, poems of all time. It has spoken to me in so many different times of my life. I have definitely seen the ripple effect of the choices I have made as I stood at each and every crossroad of my life.

One of my favorite quotes is "choose well your choice for it is brief yet endless!"

Though forgiven and blood covered, the ripples of long ago poor decisions continue to crash into the shores of my present. The impact of these ripples or error is altered because of the ripples of grace that follow them but they continue to crash ashore.