The Snail Declares War on the Speed of Light

From atop a mushroom podium,
slick with morning’s manifesto,
she raises her eye stalks to the cosmos
and announces her rebellion
against physics’ favorite constant.

“Too long have we lived
under the tyranny of photons,
their hasty conclusions
about how fast the universe must run!”
Her silver trail glistens
like a battle strategy.

She arms herself with patience,
shields made of shell-slow wisdom,
and the ancient art
of getting there eventually.

The light years laugh
at first, streaming past
in their immutable rush,
but she persists —
one microscopically measured
millimeter at a time.

Through quantum gardens
and relativistic flower beds,
she carries her revolution
on her back, a spiral fortress
of deliberate defiance.

“Your 299,792,458 meters per second
mean nothing to me,” she proclaims
to Einstein’s ghost, who watches
with bemused relativity.
“I measure my victories
in dewdrops and shadows.”