One morning, I happened on a divided path in a yellow wood

Then realized it was like the one where Robert Frost once stood

I stopped and stared afar, wondering which path I should take

My view, was obscured, by the growth of the underbrush�s rake

 I looked for wear, on each trail, for trodden grass and brush

For others had surely passed this way, in their homeward rush

Each path beckoned me, to wonder to its far off emerald end

Sunlight made each a postcard, at its far off enchanted bend

Leaves in vibrant colors offered a velvet-covered path

To make my journey easy without the use of a staff

Each path offered a different course that my life would reflect

This held me fast, uncertain about which path I should select

Later, I would tell others, about the beauty of each tantalizing trail

Without knowing where they lead or from where the path did hail

That day I took neither path I retreated back to my home

Where paths are safe, more sure and a lot better known

I sometimes venture down to that wooded path divide

And wonder if Mr. Frost is close or standing at my side

If I had chosen one, might it have led me to a friend?

Or would my life have been the same in the very end

I only know that Mr. Frost held my hand on that sunny day

And whispered I too did not know which was the better way�

Choices make life exciting, not knowing what�s up ahead

We dream of what might have been, without it being said

One wrong turn on our path in life, is not the way we measure

It's what we see and do along the way that makes our life a treasure.