Allowing Way To Lead To Way

What if Robert Frost went both ways?
Slinking down the yellow wood,
bending as the undergrowth stood
and welcomed him to stray.

He took them both,
happy that they were worn
equal and the same.

Traveling down and under,
around into a blunder,
then turning
and going
where way led to way.

He held in the palm of his hand,
the light from both worlds.

Studied the heavy heartbeat
of a decision,
flicked from his wrist
the errant thought
with a magician's precision,
and brushed fingers against the willow's lanky curls.

Back and forth,
up and down,
along each trail he tread.

Day met night,
light haunted dark,
and he continued to circle the thoughts in his head.

What if Robert Frost took the fork in the road?
Giving permission to look back,
stumble, grapple, and attack,
and learn all that there was to know?

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