If you take the time to read, or re-read, Robert Frost’s “Mending Wall” I believe it will put you in a mood to pause and reflect. Reflection is necessary if we are ever to change our behavior. Serious thinking precedes the kind of change that improves our lives and the lives of those around us. Those who pause to reflect often store up a power that becomes critical when times turn stressful. It is the best manner of preparing for the unknown I can think of, and yet, it is easily overlooked and underappreciated.
A poem like Mending Wall, with its gentle pulsing rhythm, at least to me, is like walking in the woods with a friend and having a conversation that, on the surface, seems light and whimsical, but actually takes us deep to one of the fundamental problems of life.
How should we relate to others?
What are walls for?
Do we always need them, or are there times when they must come down?
What is that something that doesn’t love a wall?
Mending Wall
by Robert Frost
Something there is that doesn't love a wall, That sends the frozen-ground-swell under it, And spills the upper boulders in the sun; And makes gaps even two can pass abreast. The work of hunters is another thing: I have come after them and made repair Where they have left not one stone on a stone, But they would have the rabbit out of hiding, To please the yelping dogs. The gaps I mean, No one has seen them made or heard them made, But at spring mending-time we find them there. I let my neighbor know beyond the hill; And on a day we meet to walk the line And set the wall between us once again. We keep the wall between us as we go. To each the boulders that have fallen to each. And some are loaves and some so nearly balls We have to use a spell to make them balance: ‘Stay where you are until our backs are turned!’ We wear our fingers rough with handling them. Oh, just another kind of out-door game, One on a side. It comes to little more: There where it is we do not need the wall: He is all pine and I am apple orchard. My apple trees will never get across And eat the cones under his pines, I tell him. He only says, ‘Good fences make good neighbors.’ Spring is the mischief in me, and I wonder If I could put a notion in his head: ‘Why do they make good neighbors? Isn't it Where there are cows? But here there are no cows. Before I built a wall I'd ask to know What I was walling in or walling out, And to whom I was like to give offense. Something there is that doesn't love a wall, That wants it down.’ I could say ‘Elves’ to him, But it's not elves exactly, and I'd rather He said it for himself. I see him there Bringing a stone grasped firmly by the top In each hand, like an old-stone savage armed. He moves in darkness as it seems to me, Not of woods only and the shade of trees. He will not go behind his father's saying, And he likes having thought of it so well He says again, ‘Good fences make good neighbors.’
"Mending Wall" is a poem by the twentieth-century American poet Robert Frost (1874–1963). It opens Robert's second collection of poetry, North of Boston, published in 1914 by David Nutt, and it has become "one of the most anthologized and analyzed poems in modern literature"
For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven:
a time to be born, and a time to die;
a time to plant, and a time to pluck up what is planted;
a time to kill, and a time to heal;
a time to break down, and a time to build up;
a time to weep, and a time to laugh;
a time to mourn, and a time to dance;
a time to cast away stones, and a time to gather stones together;
a time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing;
a time to seek, and a time to lose;
a time to keep, and a time to cast away;
a time to tear, and a time to sew;
a time to keep silence, and a time to speak;
a time to love, and a time to hate;
a time for war, and a time for peace.
The poem’s format was lost. Interesting but unintended. I will fix this. Unfortunately those who received this by email will have to use the substack app or go to thestillpoint.Substack.com.