The Process of Diagnosis Takes a Long Time

Thought I’d share one of my favourite poems, by Robert Frost. First published in 1916 so far as I know, so shouldn’t be any problem with publishing here. Frost was American, so I’ve kept the American spelling.

It feels a little bit relevant to us in this community, perhaps to many Ben’s Friends communities, though some may feel they were led down one of the roads rather than it having been a choice. Hope you like this as much as I do.

I personally see the poem as a commentary on the many choices we make in our lives, and even the smallest of choices being those that influence the whole of our later life; but it can be read in many ways, I think.

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.

At some point, we’ve all taken the road less travelled.

Richard

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