For the letter F, I derive inspiration from Robert Frost’s poem The Road Not Taken.
The Road Not Taken
Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;
Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,
And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.
I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.
I have reached the mouth of a fork with many prongs
The number of prongs is so many
so many I can’t count
Prongs: long short medium tiny
Prongs: ash mud water gold
how to choose the absolute right one?
I make an excel sheet
evaluating the weight of each
and draw up complex equations.
I ask a few others for their voices.
my heart, usually a mute spectator;
sometimes squeaks out an opinion,
I can feel the fingers being pointed at me
somewhere in the future
when I do not choose correctly
The hands of the clock make their laps in record time
I know I must be on my way soon, but my feet superglue
and root like I have the eyes of Medusa boring into me
All I can do from my vantage point is
view the prongs of the fork
burn and dissolve like skin submerged in acid
one by one
leaving no charred remains
self loathing rising steadily.
– Namratha Varadharajan
Today I would like you to share with me, have you felt like this at any point in your life? What was the fork at which you could not decide and got stuck?