A Life's Guide

Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.

My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.

He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there is some mistake.
The only other sound's the sweep
Of the easy wind and downy flake.

The woods are lovely, dark and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.
- Robert Frost, "Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening" (1922)

I've loved this poem from the very moment I studied it in high school English class. I was awed by Mr. Frost's genius in the simplicity of the words and the imagery he used. It was like a fresh breeze for it seemed, on the surface, a poem that was easy to understand especially when compared to the other literary works we had to study at the time.

I was also profoundly struck by the poem's last stanza. Although the last stanza has been the subject of years of debate among literary critics, for me, it left a message of responsibility, of priorities, and of mission.

I've seen so many lovely woods in my life. Each presented itself to me at a time of its own choosing. All were very enticing and all, in its own way, could have changed my life in one way or another. Some maybe for the better and some, probably, for the worse. I will never know for certain because the last stanza's words constantly reminded me of my responsibilities, of the need to attain a number of goals although quite mundane some of them may have been.

I had to admire those woods from a distance then, sometimes with much sadness. There are times when I deeply regret that I did not stay to admire them a bit longer. Who knows? Maybe I would have learned a thing or two about myself, things that could have helped me later in life.

But I had work to do. I had goals I couldn't compromise on. To compromise on them, would have certainly proved fatal not only to me but also to the ones I love and will love. And so I had no option but to move on.

Many summers have passed since I first read this poem. More summers, God willing, lay ahead. I've accomplished a number of my goals but at the same time, because of changes in my priorities along the way, I've also had to change or give up on some. But what this poem has been and always will be to me is a source of strength and a reminder that although a number of things have been accomplished, there are still a number of things left to be done.