Winter's Roads by Ron Carnell
I cannot speak for all who stem
'Long roads less traveled as their way,
Nor question choices made by them
In days long past or nights long dim
by words they spoke and did not say.
Each road is long, though short it seems,
And credence gives each road a name
Of fantasies sun-drenched in beams
Or choices turned to darkened dreams,
To where each road wends just the same.
From North to South, then back again,
I followed birds like all the rest
Escaping nature's snowy den
On roads I've seen and places been,
Forsaking roads that traveled West.
This journey grows now to its end,
As road reflections lined in chrome
Give way to roads with greater bend
And empty signs that still pretend
They point the way to home sweet home.
But all roads lead to where we go
And where we go is where we've been,
So home is just a word we know,
That space in time most apropos
For where we want to be again.
For even home, it seems to me,
Is still a choice we all must face
From day to day and endlessly,
To choose if home is going to be
Another road - or just a place.
'Long roads less traveled as their way,
Nor question choices made by them
In days long past or nights long dim
by words they spoke and did not say.
Each road is long, though short it seems,
And credence gives each road a name
Of fantasies sun-drenched in beams
Or choices turned to darkened dreams,
To where each road wends just the same.
From North to South, then back again,
I followed birds like all the rest
Escaping nature's snowy den
On roads I've seen and places been,
Forsaking roads that traveled West.
This journey grows now to its end,
As road reflections lined in chrome
Give way to roads with greater bend
And empty signs that still pretend
They point the way to home sweet home.
But all roads lead to where we go
And where we go is where we've been,
So home is just a word we know,
That space in time most apropos
For where we want to be again.
For even home, it seems to me,
Is still a choice we all must face
From day to day and endlessly,
To choose if home is going to be
Another road - or just a place.
|
|
Rating: N/A |
The Winter of 1998 was the first time in over two decades that I found myself immobilized by heavy snow of Michigan. For three very long days. One result of that enforced isolation was a poem called Winter's Threads.
Not being one to repeat past mistakes (I much prefer the excitement of making new ones), I packed my motor home the day after Christmas, 1999, with the intention of spending winter in California. I made it only as far as Louisiana, where I stopped to visit family (and instead became involved with family). Nonetheless, I stayed warm, renewed some familial bonds, and learned I'm really not very well suited to the travelling life.
Eight weeks later, with warm weather breaking in Michigan, I again headed North. While on the road, with little else to occupy my mind, I penned this sequel to Winter's Threads. And like its precursor, the poem is less about Winter and more about the choices we make in life.
(With apologies to Robert Frost, who also wrote of choices, in a very similar format - and did it much, much better.)
Not being one to repeat past mistakes (I much prefer the excitement of making new ones), I packed my motor home the day after Christmas, 1999, with the intention of spending winter in California. I made it only as far as Louisiana, where I stopped to visit family (and instead became involved with family). Nonetheless, I stayed warm, renewed some familial bonds, and learned I'm really not very well suited to the travelling life.
Eight weeks later, with warm weather breaking in Michigan, I again headed North. While on the road, with little else to occupy my mind, I penned this sequel to Winter's Threads. And like its precursor, the poem is less about Winter and more about the choices we make in life.
(With apologies to Robert Frost, who also wrote of choices, in a very similar format - and did it much, much better.)
 |
i recently graduated from high school and was voted to give the commencement speech at that time. as part of my speech i read "The Road Not Taken" by Robert Frost. in your poem i found such an awesome similarity i was chilled. it brought to mind such a profound longing to back to high school and everything that i had known while at the same time giving me comfort in the solitude i am now faced with and courage to brave even the strongest storm. i wish i could have read your poem sooner as i would have loved to use it in my commencement speech (giving credit to you, of course. ) poems like these reaffirm my thought that no matter how far away i am from "home", it will always be in my mind and heart for home truly is where the heart is. - cris |
|
Your poems are very insightful as i am only 14 so i need to choose the road that i feel best and you really helped me - Jesse |
|
hello being new here i can only share my reactions with you. as i began reading your poem, in the rhythm of it, i immediately felt as if i was travelling, moving along. the steps progress, choice after choice, there are open spaces and closed ones. i may not know the scenary, but i know the journey. - Sera |
|
I like his poem. This poem is excellent. - Yusra |
|
Great Poem - Kay |
|
I thought the poem very fitting.Especially since my name is Winters. We had a house fire 2 days before x-mas. Never knowing what road life will see us on,bein with the ones we love and family is truly where we feel at home. - Diane |
|
This poem is great. I can relate to this Poem. My friend has a motor home. He comes and goes and I can't go. Thank you for this great poem. - Annette |
|
GOOD POEM!! - Sharon |
|
Excellent! Enjoyed. - mm |
|
In this time of year and with an unrestfull heart, this poem really reflects my mind. - Filip |
|
lovely poem though parts of it are abstruse and depend on the reader's interpretation - dshikha |
|
REALLY GOOD - KIRSTY |
|
The first few lines reminded me of Frost's 'Road not taken' however it is not an Unoriginal poem. I quite liked the Structure, a little bit a varaince it refreshing :). - Jonathan |
|
I just wanted to write a quick note and tell you that I thought your poem was wonderful. I live in good-ole snowy MI and I know what it is like to feel trapped by all that cold winter wind and snow. No apologies necessary to Robert Frost, for you did a very creative and heartfelt job and that is all that matters. Ranea (a former Navy Wife of a Desert Storm Veteran) - Ranea |
|
This poem hit so directly to the heart of "Home" and what it really is, I was very touched by it. - Mary |
|
This is Beautiful and relates almost exactly to my life. - Craig |
|
I understaand. - emerson |
