Storms and Snails

My chest won't stop pounding and ears are ringing alarms
As the storm rages just barely staying outside  
The wind slamming violently loud against the house
The rain drops so large it sounds like hail
The rose bushes mimicking screams against glass
I close my eyes tight and just picture a snail
Small and common brown they go unnoticed
Always steady and always seeming to know the way
A snail is always exploring, they rarely stop
Laying trails for other snails to see and know
Their shell forever a swirl, the size their age
I focus on these familiar images of snails
They're so careful the way they move
Their eyes guide the way two blind man sticks would
While they walk one footed across the ground
There's a comb in their mouth they use expertly  
To grind their food so slowly, so directly
Creating perfection, the most perfect crunching sound
My chest calms itself as storm continues it's fury
Snails are truly, truly the ultimate survivalists
Because not all survival needs to be quick and predatory
Sometimes all we can do is slow down
And walk slowly through life as it is
And enjoy the foods that give the good crunch
Sometimes the best way is the slow way