“I have never been this happy,”
burped the tadpole to the fry.
“Of course, you know, you little squirt,
I have no need to lie. I happened on
a lily pad while swimming on my way
and sure as tootin’ it’s just the one
I hope to own someday.”
“That made you happy?” said the little fish,
“You really felt joy then?”
“Of course, you teeny, tiny trout;
my ambitions never end.”
“But think about the journey, frog;
what is it that you seek,
perhaps you’ll miss the journey, friend–
perhaps the end will reek?”
“Worry not, you fish egg fool,
I seek the prize, for sure.
Life is way too short for this,
I’ll race you to that pool.”
“I’d rather linger just awhile,
there’s lots to do here, too.
Perhaps you’ll find some value
after growing a leg or two–”
So on they talked, and nothing changed,
and the river marked the time.
And the tadpole turned into a frog,
and the fry grew up and died.