Wednesday, December 21, 2011

Most Happy Solstice

View of the Purcells   photoshopped photograph

“Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening”

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 sounds 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.

Rober Frost

This is one of my favorite poems. I have had the pleasure of riding a horse home on a snowy evening, when the air is still and flakes the size of a quarter are sifting through the sky. There is no sound but her crunching footsteps and the jingle of the bit. The heat of her body rises up and envelopes me, her breath makes a halo around us. That calm beauty is what I hope eternity will be.

No comments: