Wednesday, 27 December 2017

Friday, December 22nd, 2017

Toronto, Ontario

Something from Robert Frost

La neige—snow—finally did come and it compelled some of us, Nick, Vijay and I to strap on our boots, pull out the shovels and start clearing the outside stairs and sidewalks.  Neighbours love it when you remove the excess stuff lying on the paths and walkways.

We see it as a service to the community.  We extended the favour and shovelled the drive and walkways next door, which is known as Grant House, a facility for women implicated with the law and who are starting a new life.

When the job was completed and we entered the cozy warmth of our ashram, I saw I was sent a poem by Robert Frost, “Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening.”

Whose woods these are I think I know.  
His house is in the village though;  
He will not see me stopping here  
To watch his woods fill up with snow.  

My little horse must think it queer  
To stop without a farmhouse near  
Between the woods and frozen lake  
The darkest evening of the year.   

He gives his harness bells a shake  
To ask if there is some mistake.  
The only other sound’s the sweep  
Of easy wind and downy flake.  

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.

May the Source be with you!

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