Poetry

The Road Ne’er Traveled

Share:

A wood of gold
where winds
++++whisper
tales ne’er told
of young and old.

I stand alone.

A fork has stopped
my wandering feet
the beat
++++of my steps
now broken before
two roads along
the forest floor.

Frost, I think,
could this truly be?
The place where he
once stood
++++so still
in morning’s chill
of the yellow wood?

One road true
tried
++++and beat,
trodden down
by many feet.
The other
writhes and twists
through mist —
a test.
++++A quest
of purest heart.

Dear Frost,
I know your choice
your voice
the one less traveled by
++++but I
know not which path
is mine.

The one I choose —
the road ne’er traveled,
the way unmarked.

Neither road for me.

I’ll make
my own way
and perhaps someday
a traveler will stand here
++++again
and choose the path
I have laid.

I wade among
wingstems
++++and thistles,
beauty with pain
I gladly claim
in a wood of gold
where winds
++++whisper
tales ne’er told
of young and old
and passerby
who forged a trail
ne’er traveled by.

 

 

Written in March 2013

 

 

Leave a Reply