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.
The Road Not Taken
by Robert Frost
“Through him all things were made; without him nothing was made that has been made.”
John 1:3 (NIV)
Wrapping up the loose ends of a WP Writing course I had opportunity to visit other bloggers. I began with a like on one of my posts by Twilight73, on to a comment thread and then back to my inbox. From there to a like from Classy, all of which marvelously wove into a tapestry of the love of words.
Exploring words has long been one of my favorite pastimes. Sometimes while writing, especially free-style exercises, random words pop into my work. Sometimes with astounding accuracy a word from somewhere obscure; such mystifying, wonderful sounding words that I wonder how they came to me, through me, and why they moved into those particular stories at those precise moments.
Some of those times, I would later realize one such word didn’t fit into what I actually wanted to say. I’d examine the thought, still enjoy the sounds of the word, the art of the text, then reluctantly replace it. But soon afterward, I would return to the random word and follow it into an entirely different story. These were adventures.
I have wondered if this is odd – but not for long. I am what I am. Today I deduce this is not that odd after all.