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Each day will blessings flow your way
From your sure and consistent pace
Like the story told of a speedy hare
And the tortoise who won the race

Your dreams need daily attention
Which draws them to your embrace
So trade your fitful stops and starts
For that steady, consistent pace

Yes, quick and powerful actions -
At times they may have their place
But more success is gained by far
From a stable consistent pace

So when you plan your daily life
Save some focused time and space
For the daily thoughts and actions
That keep your consistent pace
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I've been putting some classic (old) parables and some new parables on my Mom's website for her.  As I built the page about the tortoise and the hare, I thought how effective (and prosperous) we can be when we act with consistent pace.

We all have different personalities, and some lean toward a consistent pace naturally.  My Dad and I can easily take a huge project and work a bit a day on it for 100 days.  Some others in my family...  don't naturally do that.
However, there is magic and power in a consistent pace!
Undead Nomad Nov 2019
I am the mountainous tortoise
with a shell made of dreams
and tears of falling sands
mine eyes orbit my head
through clouds composed of countless thoughts
teetering to and fro on their paths
in and out of sight

ethereal winds carrying them past
cascading along my back
they lie in trails
leaving wakes of fantastical debris

the impressions of my gait birth canyons
whilst my footsteps impress the ground in craters

water precipitates the land under me
as I crack the sky
rising with my breadth on high

in day the heavens fold under my weight
bending the starlight around me by night
it frames my periphery
like a prismatic halo
as I merge into the the horizon
with colors pulsing to the beat of incandescent waves
Taken from a dream after an afternoon nap.
Love the sloth in my mind
Busy sloth-ing away it’s time
The cheetah, somewhere around
Slogging away all the while
The two at loggerheads
Tearing up my heart
The Mind, a multitasker
The Heart put to tasks
Time to summon the tortoise
I surmise
Wayne Wysocki Oct 2018
(a limerick by Wayne Wysocki)

The tortoise and hare had a race
But the rabbit came in second place
      So the notion that speed
      Makes the win guaranteed
Just isn't always the case.
Copyright 2018 Wayne Wysocki
Brandon Conway Jun 2018

In the tyranny of the measuring clock
Death is but a tortoise in this timeless race
With every slow tick and echoing tock
Forever keeping its careless pace

With so much to do I stay awake
With one foot in front of the other
Running with knees and feet that ache
Time feeds worms a salutary supper

In the end we must lie and nap
Embrace eternal slumbers deadlock
We are just hares caught in times trap
In the tyranny of the measuring clock

The uniVerse Jun 2018
I've lived a sheltered life
one home, no wife
just plodding along
day after day
doing no wrong
doing okay
I've not got far
but who's to judge
don't need no car
I prefer to trudge
they say I will live
to a ripe old age
as long as I live
without a cage
one day I might reach
the endless ocean
stretch out on the beach
and cease all motion
but I guess for now
I will keep on going
following the vow
this wind is blowing.
My life as a tortoise.
Kewayne Wadley Sep 2017
If a turtle could.
He would walk faster- maybe.
Find some dynamite.
Nashoba Aug 2017
Today the sun came back. No more storms. I miss the lightning we now lack.
  The desert is going to be in bloom again as the showers you shed feed the withering blooms.
The tortoise comes out, saw you early this day. Drinking the drops you laid.
The sand looks dry but only to the blind eye. As the water you shed is now hidden deep under the rock bed.
  We welcome your return. New storms that force us to learn, that life is a full circle in this harsh desert world.
For today I say farewell to the storms we had. But waiting for new ones to brighten this land.
Nashoba copyrighted 2017
effie ebbtide Dec 2016
"you are dust!" said the tortoise,
chewing a leaf, the one it chewed for a couple centuries.
and i twisted my head and scratched my dandruff-littered scalp,
"why?" i said, my pondering genuine, as it tends not to be.
"because!" it said, clearly annoyed, "death is something you can't avoid,
and someday you shall rot, and be a feast for fungus,
and then your bones will wither away, eroded by time's merciless decay."
i was not impressed (though slightly scared), "i realize that," i replied.
"but how are you seeing me at this time as anything other than flesh?
i know that i will pass, and that my body will be deep underground,
worms will mate in my eye sockets, and the less said about maggots
the better. but here, in this moment, time has not run out for me, so why are you using the present tense when cursing entropy upon me?"
it stopped and slowed down chewing, eyes gazing back and forth.
"do you think my sense of time only lies in one direction? mistaken.
it can go backwards, yes, but it may go forwards too, and
some other directions you will not comprehend. divination is no delusion,
it's only logical."
the tortoise turned around and crawled away. this took a few decades.
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