Making something of what's so slow-moving.
There lived a turtle without friends that understood him,
And a hat.
The hat looked like a cowboy leather fedora-evolution,
And it kept out the light, but also the dark
For the turtle.
The turtle climbed carefully under the hat once and never wanted to climb out.
It was preciously at this thought that the turtle felt the wind. He cleared his mind and listened.
“In here,” the fire the turtle fed was bright, “there are no wise days for years,” said a voice carried by The Wind.
The turtle realized he was stuck under a hat.
Ut-it felt like being in a vault,
Without anyplace to go.
He had to realize the cave was really a prison and the hat was real
Before he was no longer
Slow as a turtle,
And free as a fire.
This has been the story of ‘A turtle and a hat.’