The tortoise and the hare,
It’s a story that I heard
From a child.
And I have tried both.
I have raced for the finish line.
And I have done my best to be steady
In the endless pursuit of more.
But the race itself seems to imply
That what I have is not enough,
That I must rely upon my wits,
My inward tortoise or my hare.
But what if I am already rich
And do not need the prize?
What if it’s enough
To be rich inside my mind?
And what if every little thing I need
An unseen hand, had promised to supply.
Well, then that would be a different story, wouldn’t it.
