Mother, mother, mother; where have you gone so soon?
Seasons past, and joints grew rust, too early in our bloom.
Mother, mother, mother. I recall that summer hue
We treaded e'er so softly to where the veins of paths first grew.
And there it was! the hillside road, O long, mysterious one.
We, and the foot, could feel the danger, glowering was the sun.
"Dear child," I heard you say one day (I remember clear as rain),
"Never go the pathway up, or you'll not come down again.
The rocks are sharp and treacherous, the sun is fierce and harsh,
the path is always drenched with dew, and the mud is soft as marsh.
Don't go my child, my dearest child, don't go so very far!"
But you were gone that very day, your words now weak and mild.
I look upon this road now, and still I hear you cry -
"Don't go my child, my dearest child, don't fall and tumble by!"
And as I take that step upon the fearful, earthy road -
"O how my child, my dear, dear child, O how my child will groand!"
I took another, and the next, laments fill thick the air.
I felt the rush, and broke to sprint, my ears filled with despair,
and with breathless, coarse, and heavy gasps, I looked back there and saw -
my home. How tiny, small and weak, how pitiful, insignificant all!
My feet, all sore and tired, the cries were ceased and gone,
but I heard my voice this time, and with sighs the road went on.
And mother, mother I thought of you, obscured and so alone.
You know best, oh mother dear, why I never went back home.
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That was the poem I read for Evening by the Pond. =) It has been coming into my mind these past few days, and I thought I'd write it down. Its all by memory, I swear!
Ok, scratch that. I know I'm always stuck in this anonymous zone when it comes to thanking my friends for things. So here goes.
Yesterday, I recieved a note from Denyse.
We've been friends since Primary 4, and I can still remember our similar backpacks as we sat together. Mine was pink, i think, and hers was yellow. I remember strolling the corridors while singing songs out loud together. She was the first friend I cried over, the first person that let me realise how much I loved all my friends. She was cheery, bubbly, and always nice. And when something was troubling her, I was someone she trusted to confine in.
I've always cherished that love.
This note Denyse gave me, let me realised how much I missed out these few years. This love has always thrived on, through our toughest times, and our weakest. Because it let me realised that no matter what happened, this one friend will always be there for me. And it made me wonder why I've ever felt lonely in the first place. Because personally, I don't think I have the right to say that none of my other friends won't be the same.
And as if she read my mind, I flipped the note over, and there was a poem - The road not taken. One I've relished, cared for, and been inspired by countless times. The familiarity of it got me reading along...
Thank you Dee.
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The Road Not Taken
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.