A land turtle's terrestrial journey.
Short is my stay here and shorter my legs-nothing to rush for, life is all that matters,
at home in my shell which does not care
how I look or if I am happy, happy
is how I look. With monastic grace,
at my own pace
I crawl-sticking my neck out
to meet space that blows above my bald head
beholding the world in pause
living the road fully, prizing
the journey above destination, flowery
the view where butterflies flutter
smelling leisurely the meadow
agog with incense-
nibbling a shrub here, gobbling a snail there
sucking succulence in the cactus as well,
discovering a well of simple joy tucked
in the corner of each day, whatever
life's weather, until it gets dark
for these few short days.
Poetry by yoonoos peerbocus
Read 75 times
Written on 2023-09-25 at 01:38
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