Tortoise, with nails gray-brown that had toughened each day of his many long lived, till one day he thought of them “My nails are hard; yes, yes they are the toughest ever crawled upon,” and so, it was with that thought he set out to challenge life.
“This shell is a fortress hardened by tribulation, thus I am strong; I will persevere.”
At first the small pebbles merely parted as he shuffled his slow way forward, though gradually, over time, the much larger and bigger stones also creaked and groaned at his passing. “Move!”
His mouth tasted the many sweet moist red, purple, and blue berries, and the green succulents along that path. Cacti, regardless of sharpened spines, once sat upon, gave way to his hard snap, hewn as the words that drove him onward. Fraught of callous nature, spoken within heart, mind and soul, they welled up, “Out of my way, for I am tortoise, long lived, of tough hand, foot, beak and shell.”
“This shell is a fortress hardened by tribulation, thus I am strong; I will persevere.”
Coming of an old age, the ways of the tortoise unfolded and became known while crawling on, boastfully displaying the hardened exterior, and only escaping to it’s soft interior when necessary.
Through drought and flood, he found his way. Finding mates, then leaving them, each in their turn. Wolves howled outside, frustrated at his impenetrable nature. Inside, smugly smiling, he rejoiced at this race surely won in steps.
“This shell is a fortress hardened by tribulation, thus I am strong; I will persevere, forever.”
It was with this confidence one day that this ancient set upon the harsh road of men. Guts strewn, its popped shell was all that remained moments after their meeting. Crushed to bits. Circling buzzards knowing full the meaning and confidant of their own determined purpose smiled, slowly descending.
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