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| Andrew Wyeth |
Reluctance
Out
through the fields and the woods
And
over the walls I have wended;
I
have climbed the hills of view
And
looked at the world, and descended;
I
have come by the highway home,
And
lo, it is ended.
The
leaves are all dead on the ground,
Save
those that the oak is keeping
To
ravel them one by one
And
let them go scraping and creeping
Out
over the crusted snow,
When
others are sleeping.
And
the dead leaves lie huddled and still,
No
longer blown hither and thither;
The
last lone aster is gone;
The
flowers of the witch hazel wither;
The
heart is still aching to seek,
But
the feet question ‘Whither?’
Ah,
when to the heart of man
Was
it ever less than a treason
To
go with the drift of things,
To
yield with a grace to reason,
And
bow and accept the end
Of
a love or a season?
Robert
Frost
A
dear family member of mine has recently died. With his passing, it
feels as if a season of my life has ended. As if the time of plenty,
of warmth is over; and I look around, surprised at the change, even
though I expected it. Frost speaks so gracefully, “ I have
climbed the hills of view/ And looked at the world, and
descended;/I have come by the highway home,/And lo, it is
ended.”. That‘s
how I feel. And like he says, I don’t want to “bow
and accept the end”, not so
quickly or easily – no. I
want to walk and look while thinking and remembering, I want to soak
up all the benefits, all the riches of knowing and loving S, I want
to stay here awhile and be still.
