A Poem for the Left Behind, by Robert Frost.

Via on May 21, 2011

The great End of Days of May 21, 2011 has come and gone.

So, if you’re reading this, you’ve probably been LEFT BEHIND.

On the bright side, the period of Tribulation really hasn’t been too bad, so far. Hell, there’s still internet access.

Nonetheless, for those of us feeling disappointed about being stuck here on earth while the righteous have ascended to eternal bliss, never to return to this mortal coil, I thought I’d share this poem by Robert Frost, who I think had exactly the right attitude about this kinda thing:

Birches

When I see birches bend to left and right
Across the lines of straighter darker trees,
I like to think some boy’s been swinging them.
But swinging doesn’t bend them down to stay.
Ice-storms do that. Often you must have seen them
Loaded with ice a sunny winter morning
After a rain. They click upon themselves
As the breeze rises, and turn many-colored
As the stir cracks and crazes their enamel.
Soon the sun’s warmth makes them shed crystal shells
Shattering and avalanching on the snow-crust–
Such heaps of broken glass to sweep away
You’d think the inner dome of heaven had fallen.
They are dragged to the withered bracken by the load,
And they seem not to break; though once they are bowed
So low for long, they never right themselves:
You may see their trunks arching in the woods
Years afterwards, trailing their leaves on the ground
Like girls on hands and knees that throw their hair
Before them over their heads to dry in the sun.
But I was going to say when Truth broke in
With all her matter-of-fact about the ice-storm
(Now am I free to be poetical?)
I should prefer to have some boy bend them
As he went out and in to fetch the cows–
Some boy too far from town to learn baseball,
Whose only play was what he found himself,
Summer or winter, and could play alone.
One by one he subdued his father’s trees
By riding them down over and over again
Until he took the stiffness out of them,
And not one but hung limp, not one was left
For him to conquer. He learned all there was
To learn about not launching out too soon
And so not carrying the tree away
Clear to the ground. He always kept his poise
To the top branches, climbing carefully
With the same pains you use to fill a cup
Up to the brim, and even above the brim.
Then he flung outward, feet first, with a swish,
Kicking his way down through the air to the ground.

So was I once myself a swinger of birches.
And so I dream of going back to be.
It’s when I’m weary of considerations,
And life is too much like a pathless wood
Where your face burns and tickles with the cobwebs
Broken across it, and one eye is weeping
From a twig’s having lashed across it open.
I’d like to get away from earth awhile
And then come back to it and begin over.
May no fate willfully misunderstand me
And half grant what I wish and snatch me away
Not to return. Earth’s the right place for love:
I don’t know where it’s likely to go better.
I’d like to go by climbing a birch tree,
And climb black branches up a snow-white trunk
Toward heaven, till the tree could bear no more,
But dipped its top and set me down again.
That would be good both going and coming back.
One could do worse than be a swinger of birches.

About Jay Winston

Jay S. Winston, founder and proprietor of Yoga for Cynics (http://yogaforcynics.blogspot.com), has a PhD in English, making him the kind of doctor who, in case of life-threatening emergency, can explain Faulkner while you die, is currently (semi-)(un-)employed as a freelance writer and editor, teaches creative writing to homeless men, tutors recovering addicts in reading, was recently certified as a Kripalu yoga teacher, gets around mostly by bicycle, is trying to find an agent for his novel, resides in the bucolic Mt. Airy neighborhood of Philadelphia, State of Mildly Inebriated Samadhi, U.S.A. and, like most people who bike and practice yoga, used to live in Boulder.

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7 Responses to “A Poem for the Left Behind, by Robert Frost.”

  1. Love this, Jay. Thanks for sharing it with us.

    I hereby declare this be an honorary Yoga blog. Posting to Elephant Yoga on Facebook and Twitter.

    Bob W. Yoga Editor
    Like Elephant Yoga on Facebook
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  2. Just posted to "Featured Today" on the Elephant Yoga homepage.

  3. Melinda Matthews Melinda says:

    I love this. Beautiful, timely and inspirational. Thank you for sharing it.

  4. Grateful to be here on May 22nd to read this Doc J ~ thanks for sharing it. Trees have aways been my meditation.

  5. siddhipeopleyoga says:

    Really nice.

  6. Padma Kadag says:

    Nice reminder of America's rich poetical past. Like the axe he carries in the photo he cuts through the glitz, glam, hype, "metaphysics", and confusion. Thanks for publishing Frost here, I will dust off my old Frost and Robert Graves books.

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