My favorite poem is Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening By Robert Frost. I absolute love this poem. For those of you unfamiliar, I will share the poem and then explain the wacky title of this post.
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.
Now for the explanation: That last part gets me every time I read the poem, and it is what reminds me of my role as a webmaster. You see, as a webmaster or website manager, there are always things to do, and as Frost repeats: And miles to go before I sleep. This line is repeated in my opinion as a way to bring emphasis to the point. That point is not lost on me or my role as a webmaster. Take today, a Saturday for instance. For most a day off, for me a work day. I had a client with a website problem in need of a fix. I have a team of developers at work in need of a couple of answers from me. Now, I could certainly take the day off and wait until Monday to work on these issues. But, that is what separates us from everyone else. My goal has always been to be the most responsive company in the world for website maintenance. A lofty goal, no doubt. But I honestly think we have achieved this and work everyday to improve. We don’t rest on our laurels.
In conclusion: While this job isn’t always easy, and certainly not for everyone, we have chosen the road less traveled. (Sorry, I couldn’t resist) Our clients are glad we did!
Robert Frost, “Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening” from The Poetry of Robert Frost, edited by Edward Connery Lathem. Copyright 1923, © 1969 by Henry Holt and Company, Inc., renewed 1951, by Robert Frost. Reprinted with the permission of Henry Holt and Company, LLC.
Source: Collected Poems, Prose, & Plays (Library of America, 1995)