A Soldier

He is that fallen lance that lies as hurled,
That lies unlifted now, come dew, come rust,
But still lies pointed as it plowed the dust.
If we who sight along it round the world,
See nothing worthy to have been its mark,
It is because like men we look too near,
Forgetting that as fitted to the sphere,
Our missiles always make too short an arc.
They fall, they rip the grass, they intersect
The curve of earth, and striking, break their own;
They make us cringe for metal-point on stone.
But this we know, the obstacle that checked
And tripped the body, shot the spirit on
Further than target ever showed or shone.

by Robert Frost

Comments (3)

ain't this one a wowser! and in just fifteen syllables! can you find a better expression of the bittersweet experience that is being human? -glen kappy
Wow. Susan Williams is right. What a contrast! This is the very best kind of haiku - - - where the last line surprises you and contrasts from the rest of the poem.
Oh, I am absolutely stunned by the contrast here- -WoW! ! ! !