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.
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.
The first time I interacted with this creation of Mr. Frost's, I was in an eighth grade English class. Something about it immediately grabbed my attention. Like most things that grab my attention for reasons I can't explain, this poem stuck with me. I mulled it over in my head for days, but no matter how many times I wrote the poem out, no matter how many times I recited the lines in my head, I could not summon forth the deeper meaning belonging to Frost's words.
My senior year of high school I encountered this poem again. We read it in an English class I was taking shortly after being dealt the most devastating blow I have ever endured. This time, I came to a conclusion about the poem's meaning before we had finished the first read through. It seemed to me that Frost was contemplating death, and more specifically, whether or not it was time for him to die. In the end, he decided that even thought death seemed "lovely" and quiet and peaceful, he still had miles to go before it was his time to die.
Now, I am a senior in college, and Frost's poem about a silent evening in a winter wonderwood has been very much on my mind. Perhaps because it has been snowing so much, but I think there is another reason as well. My understanding and interpretation of this poem has again been altered. Frost's woods make me think of contentment. They remind me of moments in my life when everything is beautiful and I am at peace. Like the traveler in the poem, I am tempted to try and suspend myself in those moments forever, or you could say, I am tempted to stay in the woods.
However, at this point in my life that is not something I can afford to do. Like that man in those woods on that calm and snowy night, "I have promises to keep." I have promises to keep to myself regarding places I want to go and things I want to do. I have promises to keep to other people about the kind of person I am going to be and the level of commitment I am going to have to the causes I believe in. These promises make it so that, at least for now, I cannot slow down, and I cannot be content. I have to leave my comfort zone and push the limits. Mostly, I need to find out how much of a person I am capable of being and how much that person is capable of doing, because right now I do not feel like I have a very good grip on what I am actually capable of.
I love that I have these re-occurring themes in my life. By that I mean certain songs, certain movies, certain literary works, certain people that reappear from time to time. They act as important benchmarks that provide me with valuable insights regarding my personal development. It never ceases to amaze me how experience and current life situation can influence my perspective on the world. Is Frost's poem about death? Is it about contentment? Is it just about appreciating beauty but realizing that we must return to reality? Or is it supposed to be about all of those things? I don't know. But in the end that is not what matters. "Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening" is valuable to me because it is so subjective, and because that subjectivity makes it so easy to relate to my life no matter how old I get or how much my situation changes. Considering the fact that I am only twenty-two, and my life is only just beginning, it is safe to assume that my interpretation of Frost's words will continue to experience many additional alterations in the years to come. After all, I still have "miles to go before I sleep."
You knew I couldn't pass up a comment on this one....
ReplyDeleteThank you, my friend, for being willing to share these thoughts. This is one of my all-time favorite poems for many of the reasons you've stated here. In my role as teacher, it is one of my favorite poems because of reactions like this from my students. In my role as poet, it is one of the models that has guided my development. In my "role" as a person, it is a touchstone for my life.