Time to Visit

Tim Challies posted this Robert Frost poem a few days ago:

“When a friend calls to me from the road
And slows his horse to a meaning walk,
I don’t stand still and look around
On all the hills I haven’t hoed,
And shout from where I am, What is it?
No, not as there is a time to talk.
I thrust my hoe in the mellow ground,
Blade-end up and five feet tall,
And plod: I go up to the stone wall
 For a friendly visit.”

Mmmmmmmmm …

Don’t you just love the way poets capture real life at such a deep, resonant level? I have to say, adding in the discipline of reading poetry every day has been one of my favorite things about life with a six year-old. She loves poetry! And I am so edified by the poems we read and discuss (and laugh and cry over) together.

Plus, don’t you just love it when a friend, a true friend, thrusts the hoe into the ground (sets the laptop to the side, puts down the crackberry, takes off the bluetooth) and visits. Really visits.

Mmmmmmmmm … thank God for friends!
And thank God for poetry.

Yours,
Tara B.