In the quiet woods where paths diverge,
Lies the whisper of a choice untold,
Frostâs voice echoes in the rustling verge,
Guiding the brave, the young, the old.
Beneath the boughs of autumn’s glow,
His words dance with the falling leaves,
In winter’s chill and summer’s flow,
A timeless truth each heart retrieves.
The road less traveled beckons still,
Through fields of dreams and skies so vast,
With courage found in nature’s will,
A journey carved, a shadow cast.
In every line, a seasonâs breath,
A gentle nudge to wander free,
For Frost, in life and after death,
Paints paths of hope for you and me.