The Turtle

The turtle envies not the man
Who hurries on his way
But moves as slowly as he can
To savor all the day

Each step is taken with a care
The man would never show
Each breath is filled with sweeter air
Than man will ever know

His thoughts are of the ripest fruit
And all that nature brings
While man is trapped in sad pursuit
Of foolish little things

His dreams are filled with purple plums
And yellow daffodils
And all the while man succumbs
To superficial thrills

So ask me which I’d rather be
And here is what I’ll say
I’ve been the turtle most my life
The man for just a day

And if I could I’d choose to be
The turtle from now on
For I have learned serenity
In man has long been gone