The Road Not Taken

From outside Cleveland to well near Columbus I daydreamed a new storyline. Maybe Fiction next time.

Storytellers and apprentices, legends that come down through time, how this could be, yet is. I guess this only natural having caught the radio signal out of Canada as I passed Erie heading toward Cleveland this early morning;The Passion of Christ, religion, movie release day, and such. This Canadian station and voice was critical of the film and especially its Director. I understood their reasoning. The movie I knew I had no desire to go see and knew I never would.

Staying on the road despite the time and distance growing, my mind found to wander, coming back only to check my speed or notice a landmark.The weather warm and sunny on this snow free day, my path was clear and it was so hard to believe we were in the heart of winter. An open road, my words sitting next to me on route to become a book, me an author, a publishing company established. All of it, including this day, seemed a dream.

This stretch of road through Ohio I had driven before on my way to Indianapolis. I knew the road, each curve, each city, each suburb. Years had passed, too many to comprehend. One of those moments when time seems frozen yet one is only too aware of the space and experiences in between. Age has a funny way of creeping on, passing unaware until time comes back around a second time in the same place.

The drive of days before felt old, still the adventure this day felt new. Felt same...I remembered nearly twenty years earlier as I drove off on adventure to attend graduate school in Indianapolis. Same road, exact exit, once I stood broken down waiting, then moved on to there. Now same road, exact exit this time I turned there. Let my mind sort through the time passed and experiences caught in between while my heart...once more chose...



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 I 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.