At the age of 18
I entered into the unknown
As many had before me
To plant the seeds I'd sow
It was a big change.
Where I'm from
Chickens
Cows
Ducks
Goats
Sheep
In layman's terms; a farm.

And here there are animals too.
They're just made of metal,
Metal and flesh,
And the flesh ones are scarier.
But this story isn't about the flesh ones,
It's about the metal ones
And the mettle of one so little.
I've been here for a year now, give or take a summer break
And I sometimes find it hard
In a city so full of sound and light
To enjoy myself. The little things.
I haven't seen the stars, for example,
Since I moved here.
Coming from country air and clear skies
That's huge.

I miss it.
I miss the smell, too, because let's be real
Cow manure and roadkill
Still smell better than this town.
But most importantly
I miss the little things.
Squirrels
Birds
Dragonflies;
I remember each summer, at our old house
Because of this little body of water in our back yard
We'd get HUNDREDS of dragonflies.
Maybe even thousands.
And I never really appreciated that until now.
So believe me when I say,
A snail
Was the most exciting thing on my walk home yesterday.

Funny enough, a sweaty teenager carrying two suits
crouching to look at a snail for
what I think was up to 15 minutes
Wasn't even slightly out of place here.

Anyways.
It wasn't just the fact that I'd seen this snail
But the fact that this snail's little trail
Had come
From the street.
Before I continue, I'd hit a wall.

There's piece of street art outside where I live that says
"do something every day to remind this city why the hell you're here."
And for the life of me,
I couldn't.

I'd try to sing,
but lose the words
I'd try to write
and lose the verse
I'd try to act
and lose the truth
I'd try to dance
and couldn't move.

And here
in this concrete jungle
A snail.

A creature so small but so incredibly strong
Carries his world on his back all day long
Can't give up his burdens until he dies
And I watched this snail with tears in my eyes
Because he'd crossed the street
Believe it or not
Against all odds
He'd slowly fought
his way across the asphalt road
full of fleshy beasts in their metal thrones
but his mettle proved greater
and at a snail's pace
he found himself crossing
and lay at my face.

I made sure no salt rolled off me to him
Because that would be an unfortunate end.
And I thought about words
And verse
and truth
I thought about how I could barely move
And I envied him.

Never did I think I'd say
That I wish to move at a snail's pace.

And if he can do it,
Why can't I?
This is what brought the truth to my eyes
The verse to my song
The words to my lips
The movement in my feet
My legs
My hips
I sprang into life
And went home to write
Because if he can do it
So can I.

It's the little things in life.
And in this labyrinth of greed and strife
Polluted by gasses and animals alike
Just remember to stop and breathe, and then
A snail might make the air clean again.