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.
by Robert Frost
Each year about this time, I think about Robert
Frost's Stopping by Woods on a Snowy
Evening. The poem simultaneously quiets me and
wakes me up. The rhythm of Frost's words reminds
me of times in the woods, at a riverbank, or walking
down my own street on a winter's night, when I just
stand there in awe, watching and listening to the
quiet of the night, the day, the moment. The
stillness. Presence.
Life is so busy and so full, especially at this time of
year, it's hard to remember the quiet from which all
activity springs. While being in nature provides
wonderful opportunities for heightened awareness,
you can reflect on your surroundings anytime and
anywhere. Stop now. Listen. What do you hear?
Listen in between the noise of the office and your
ever-spinning mind. Stop ... Listen ... Breathe ...
Be ...
I hear the clock ticking, the cars outside my window,
the gentle hum of my computer's hard drive, and I
feel my body ratchet down a level. Each moment is
so precious, I think, and yet ...
We have promises to keep.
As you move back into the noise, keep the memory of
the stillness within.
WISHING YOU PEACE AND CONNECTION IN THE
NEW YEAR.
With Ki,
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