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.
8 thoughts on “Two roads diverged in a wood, and I–”
Someone said, “It’s the journey, not the destination.” Your photos remind me of that.
Fantastic. Wonderful. Frost knew who to poet! 🙂
Frost know “how” to poet…. I need to learn “how” to write!
You’re right … it’s about the journey. The hikes, trails, roads and paths that we take are so much more than the destination. The people we spend our days with, those conversations we have, the photos we share, the children who light up our lives … that’s the journey. The only time we really get to our destination we’re …. dead!
This poem is a keeper, isn’t it? And so many people refer back to it time and again … just like I did!
Beautiful and exactly what I needed to hear today. Thanks for posting!
Funny how we find those words, books, people or paths when we need them, isn’t it?
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