A path in the grass,

by Art~

 

 There is a path

in the grass

made by the unknown.

It is well traveled

and has formed a trail,

but will it take me home.

 

a path forged

by the least resistance

Should I choose to go this way

where others have gone,

or should I go

‘walk-about’ and stray

 

where no one else

seems to have traveled

and make my own path.

I leave the road not taken,

and the crossroads behind

making a new path in the grass.

 

This poem inspired by, Rebel-ution and her poem, Crossroads

and the following article, about The road not taken.

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In the magazine, “Family Circle,” sept 2011 issue, is a little article on page 16, called; COULDA, WOULDA, SHOULDA… the article reads…

We all have regrets, but what do adults rue the most? Lost love. In a recent survey of 370 people, nearly one in five said their biggest heartache was a blown romance, followed by family squabbles, career and education choices, money issues and parenting mistakes. Responses were evenly split between things people did and didn’t do, but the laments that stung the most and lasted the longest involved The Road Not Taken. Bottom line; Better to have done and screwed up than never to have done at all.

COULDA, WOULDA, SHOULDA

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Road Not Taken,

by Robert Frost

 

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

 

Robert Frost on his own poetry:
“One stanza of ‘The Road Not Taken’ was written while I was sitting on a sofa in the middle of England: Was found three or four years later, and I couldn’t bear not to finish it. I wasn’t thinking about myself there, but about a friend who had gone off to war, a person who, whichever road he went, would be sorry he didn’t go the other. He was hard on himself that way.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

COULDA, WOULDA, SHOULDA

I could have, I would have and I should have

I could have been someone famous, (that was not appealing to me)

I would have (if I could go back and do it all over again, I’d have gotten a degree in literature) and…

I should have, (spent more time with my kids. Not that I didn’t, but now that there are grand kids, it seems that family is the most important part of life next to being at peace with one’s self)

 food for thought

 like most of you, I can recall so many paths that I could have gone down but did not. Any regrets? Perhaps a few, but the main thing is that;

the key to tranquility is acceptance.

Accept what is,,, for, what is , is.

Lessons in life teach us experience, there-fore when we come across such an event again, we have knowledge of what is best/ and or simply go for the gusto, which ever we seek.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 Whatever words we utter should be chosen with care for people will hear them and be influenced by them for good or ill.
Buddha

Wrinkles should merely indicate where smiles have been.
Mark Twain

happy trails to you

 

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