I was never heavy into poetry. My Grandmother wrote poetry. I still have copies of many of her poems. I’ve enjoyed reading them over the years. They came from her heart. Outside of her work, the poem that has always haunted me is by Robert Frost: Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening. The last four lines have stayed with me always.
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.
I have traveled many miles in this lifetime. There are days such as today when the lure of the sleep is haunting. When I was eighteen, a stranger walked up to me and begged forgiveness for the intrusion. They addressed me as “old man” They went on to say they have never before stood before a soul as old as mine. They stated they felt sorry because my soul has grown tired of the journey. It longs for a rest. They hoped I would find the peace I sought, and then they walked away. I have never been into re-incarnation as such, but a similar incident occurred a few years later. I was again greeted as “old man”. Take it for what it’s worth but for tonight the allure of the sleep is strong. I feel it call my name.
With the dawn of a new day tomorrow, I will take a deep breath and see what the tides have drifted ashore…