When I was a teenager our church hosted a talent show. For Cortez, Colorado, which was a small community, we had an astonishing amount of talent. But the act I remember most that evening was my brother's musical composition of Robert Frost's Stopping By Woods on a Snow Evening.
He sat on the stage bent over his guitar as a spotlight shone on him. His beautiful tenor voice soared out over the auditorium and this poem forever found a place in my heart.
This song was never recorded, sadly, and so it lives only in my mind. Some day, I'll ask Cash, that would be my brother, to see if he can remember the melody he composed and record it. If so, I will post it on this blog. For I am very proud of that dear brother of mine.
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.
If you don't mind me taking a quick turn to religious thought. I know that promises were made in premortality. There are people that each of us promised to find and we promised to bring the gospel to them.
As I go through my daily life I often wonder if I run across the paths of anyone I made this promise to --- have I made the necessary choices to put me in the place where I can cross their paths?
I don't know. I know when I meet someone and there is an instant connection and the feeling swarms over me, I've known you my entire life - where have you been? Then I believe I have found someone to whom I made a promise or they made a promise to me.
And so, when those words ring in my mind, But I have promises to keep, And miles to go before I sleep, And miles to go before sleep, it is that which I keep in mind.
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Another families.com post I wrote: Compass to the World.
that is beautiful, Candace. I have heard parts of this poem many times but am uncultured enough to have not read the whole the ever. Thanks for sharing it. I need to write it down.
ReplyDeleteThank you, Josi. It is one of my favorite poems, across the board, by my favorite poet, Robert Frost.
ReplyDeleteHis poetry speaks to my soul.
I'd love to hear Cash's composition, if he can remember it.
ReplyDeleteI'm going to call him this week and see if he can record it for us.
ReplyDeleteI often wonder how many different opportunities I've passed by in my life. I love your blog, BTW.
ReplyDeleteMindi,
ReplyDeleteI'm sure this is something most of us wonder. The safest course of action, I have found, is to obey the promptings.
I glad you like my blog. I put a lot of thought into and enjoy writing it. Thanks for dropping by!
Robert Frost, one of my favorite with one of my favorite poems. Thanks.
ReplyDeleteOne of my favs. It has always echoed to me of the pre-existence and the promises made there also--to friends, to family, to myself.
ReplyDeleteSandra and Karlene,
ReplyDeleteI'm glad you enjoyed the poem.
Our winters in NY often produce snow-covered scenes like this one and they are one of my favorite things to see in person.
ReplyDeleteJenlo,
ReplyDeleteThey are intensely beautiful, no question. I'm certain this is why Robert Frost wrote eloquently about New England. Trees covered with a new snow is alsos one of my favorite things too.