The Turtle

The turtle envies not the manWho hurries on his wayBut moves as slowly as he canTo savor all the day

Each step is taken with a careThe man would never showEach breath is filled with sweeter airThan man will ever know

His thoughts are of the ripest fruitAnd all that nature bringsWhile man is trapped in sad pursuitOf foolish little things

His dreams are filled with purple plumsAnd yellow daffodilsAnd all the while man succumbsTo superficial thrills

So ask me which I’d rather beAnd here is what I’ll sayI’ve been the turtle most my lifeThe man for just a day

And if I could I’d choose to beThe turtle from now onFor I have learned serenityIn man has long been gone