The Turtle

The turtle moves careful and slow

Wisdom is woven in his bones

The hare may be faster in his pace

But it is the turtle who wins the race

He grew up protected by his shell while crawling

But that is not to say he has not fallen

He has been stranded on his back

Many times but his patience put him flat

On his stomach where he lay

Free of frustration and dismay

And Turtles are rare to this day

There are far too many hares about

They text and drive, honk horns, and shout

There is no patience anymore

Everyone rushes and is out the door

Phone in one hand, coffee the other

Caffeine keeps us going

And of ourselves we smother

There is no patience anymore

The clock is ticking, it’s almost 4

2 more hours until you go home

Where all you do is just sit on your phone

I wonder if I am alone

For I am the turtle

My cover is blown

With patience comes wisdom I was once told

And all these hares have impatience in their bones

I wonder if I am alone

For I am the turtle

Everyone still rushes

So I search on my own