Too slowly I accept the rate of change
that slowly shows its trail across the sand
a habit made. Too slowly moves the strange
symbolic vector I can understand,
that no one else regards or even sees.
A snake, a snail, an arrow out of slime,
it slowly moves itself by small degrees
and only measures space by eating time.

Now slowly I must learn to like the pace
for slow is better than its bad reverse,
and slow is speedier than stop in place –
the sand expanse can always show me worse.
Since I can stand today to look at me,
I’ll learn to love this low velocity.