The Fable Of The Turtle, The You That You Imagine To Be. Poem by RIC BASTASA

you see, more are running
ahead of you,
they're taking the shape
of rabbits and
foxes, and even
kangaroos,

and you stop a little
bit, drink water from the
pond, for you are the turtle
of the race,

and butterflies
and dragonflies sympathize
with you,

the cricket advises you to
quit, there is no use for
the race, some are simply
created to run the speed of
of sound or light,

such an
exaggeration could have made
you bow down
to defeat and
accept the nature of your
slowness, or clumsiness
as the snail calls you,

one
who contents itself with its
own path of slime and
silence,

but here you are, stretching
legs, and nerves
carrying same house,
or heart
of steel perhaps
taking the race again.

The legend remains
or that
fable, which you call
as destiny,
foretelling
as always
your winning at
the end.

'it is', you say,

'it is enough
that i was the turtle
who won
at the end of the story'
and

there you are, in the books of
that fable history
binder, ...

the winner.