His Pace

The travel is long and arduous Any end of way is nowhere near A slow witness to season’s fast rush He treads the motion of another year. Sometimes resting on nights dark and starry He wonders why life needs to race in hurry When like him by just slowing down the pace Could be reached a piece of peace and happiness! Men would mock him for his vast slowness Absence of speed his lack of progress How would they know he never grew the lust To set himself a goal and try to reach it fast. The more paths men travel the more they seem less Like going round in circle coming back to same place Forever dreaming an ascent aiming the peak’s height Chasing a gain to attain a light at end of night! He moves on in the way the soil patiently waits the rain Never unhappy to be left behind never scared he might fail Just trekking along with no end of way no destiny’s pain In the embrace of his belief for good reason he’s a snail.