The Road Not Taken

By 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.

Our world has suddenly gotten smaller. For the moment.

For the moment, the connections that bind us together are impossible to ignore.

For the moment, there is a shared sense that we are all in this together.

For the moment, we remember that it is our collective responsibility to care for ourselves and one another as best we can.

For the moment, compassion and generosity are rising up.

For the moment, we have time to consider what we can learn, what we can let go of, and how we might come out on the other side more healed and whole.

For the moment, we greet friends and strangers alike, hopefully from no less than 6’ apart.

For the moment, we remember that we are all connected.

Collective suffering and fear have a way of bringing us together.

For the moment.

Sadly, as a species, we have very short memories. Once out of the covid-19 woods, how much of what we have been forced to remember will remain with us? There will come a time, sooner than we think, when we will have to make a choice.

Will we choose the familiar, well-trodden road that led us here in the first place?

Or.

Will we choose the one less traveled?

Our choice will make all the difference.

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