Poetry, by design, is meant to slow us down and make us ponder. You can't speed-read poetry. You must smell it, swish it around in your mouth, let it linger upon your taste buds before swallowing.
So I offer a simple poem below (in two versions – which do you prefer?), intended to help us slow down. As we rush pell-mell from cradle to grave, let's pause to consider not merely our pace, but our place in God's Creation. Of the billions of busy people on earth, are you among the many or the few?
Many, But Few (simple version)
Many start, but few finish.
Many genuflect, but few kneel.
Many pause, but few linger.
Many taste, but few swallow.
Many sleep, but few rest.
Many grip, but few possess.
Many skim, but few consider.
Many vow, but few profess.
Many breathe, but few live.
Many cry, but few mourn.
Many laugh, but few enjoy.
Many die, but few reborn.
Many walk, but few run.
Many read, but few learn.
Many gawk, but few battle.
Many stray, but few return.
Many, But Few (rhyming version)
Many start, but few will finish.
Genuflect, but seldom kneel.
Many pause, but few will linger.
Many taste, but miss the meal.
Many sleep, but few seem rested.
Gripping tight, but can't possess.
Many skim, but few consider.
Many vow, but won't profess.
Many breathe, but few are living.
Crying loud, but seldom mourn.
Many laugh, but few are joyful.
Many die, but few reborn.
Many walk, but few are running.
Reading long, but seldom learn.
Many gawk, but few will battle.
Many stray, but few return.
Let us be numbered among the few who linger in the presence of God.