sixty years ago today, beloved poet, Robert Frost died… he is with me today as i re-member sixty-two years ago being at the inauguration of JFK where Frost delivered the inaugural poem which was to be “Dedication” only the sun’s glare off of the snow kept him from being able to see the words so he recited another of his poems, “The Gift Outright”….

funny, i would have sworn it was this poem or Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening, perhaps because it was such a bitterly cold day in DC following a heavy snowfall so that we had to take a train from Richmond… as with so many people, that day began a lifelong love of his poetry with The Road Less Traveled taking center stage:

~

“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.”

~

this meditation on choice, such a touchstone, as we all come to forks in the road where we need to pause and tune in to the silence of the heart… listening… listening… for love’s heartsong which whispers the way…

yes, when it comes down to it as to what is essential and how to best serve the whole, soul answers the call of the wild and saunters along the path of adventure, to traverse a path asking for wholehearted, wholeinterbeeing devotion…

with every breath, with every step, may we commit to being present in, trusting and surrendering to divine flow – the stillpoint of our essence of love where the dance of life begins…

take this moment of true refuge as pregnant pause to rest in the gap, the space between formless and form, the silence from which the dancing pours forth to simply be… in this moment, this wild and precious moment…