Happy New Year
I have always seen the turning of the year, at Christmas, or the December equinox on December 23rd, and have never really understood the celebration arounf 31st Dec/1st January. Perhaps it never meant much in my family growing up and as a young man was just an opportunity to get drunk, or go “on the pull”
Now I enjoy other peoples enjoyment, but I prefer the quiet sentiments of seeing the new year in, this poem by Robert Frost, although it can be seen at many levels, evokes the passing waethers and seasons of life seen in the new year. Our lives passing like the snow filling the woods their passage not understood.
I met someone today in a cafe and was chatting she said that people are always looking for security in answers to the unknown, the challenge of life is to live with out the answers.
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening by Robert Frost
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 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
Similar Posts:
- The Road Not Taken – Robert Frost
- School of Inattention – Robert Bresson
- Wild Geese – Mary Oliver
- The Horses – Edwin Muir
- Chief Seattles Reply (attributed to Ted Parry)
