Photo by Peter Hoogmoed on Unsplash
Today, I bring you a fantastic poem that I didn’t write, but I hope it affects the way you think about life and business. Happy Friday, friend.
The Calf Path
By Sam Foss
I.
One day through the primeval woodA calf walked home as good calves should;
But made a trail all bent askew,A crooked trail as all calves do.
Since then three hundred years have fled,And I infer the calf is dead.
II.
But still he left behind his trail,And thereby hangs my moral tale.
The trail was taken up next day,By a lone dog that passed that way;
And then a wise bell-wether sheepPursued the trail o’er vale and steep,
And drew the flock behind him, too,As good bell-wethers always do.
And from that day, o’er hill and glade.Through those old woods a path was made.
III.
And many men wound in and out,And dodged, and turned, and bent about,
And uttered words of righteous wrath,Because ’twas such a crooked path;
But still they followed—do not laugh—The first migrations of that calf,
And through this winding wood-way stalkedBecause he wobbled when he walked.
IV.
This forest path became a lane,that bent and turned and turned again;
This crooked lane became a road,Where many a poor horse with his load
Toiled on beneath the burning sun,And traveled some three miles in one.
And thus a century and a halfThey trod the footsteps of that calf.
V.
The years passed on in swiftness fleet,The road became a village street;
And this, before men were aware,A city’s crowded thoroughfare.
And soon the central street was thisOf a renowned metropolis;
And men two centuries and a half,Trod in the footsteps of that calf.
VI.
Each day a hundred thousand routFollowed the zigzag calf about
And o’er his crooked journey wentThe traffic of a continent.
A Hundred thousand men were led,By one calf near three centuries dead.
They followed still his crooked way,And lost one hundred years a day;
For thus such reverence is lent,To well established precedent.
VII.
A moral lesson this might teachWere I ordained and called to preach;
For men are prone to go it blindAlong the calf-paths of the mind,
And work away from sun to sun,To do what other men have done.
They follow in the beaten track,And out and in, and forth and back,
And still their devious course pursue,To keep the path that others do.
They keep the path a sacred groove,Along which all their lives they move.
But how the wise old wood gods laugh,Who saw the first primeval calf.
Ah, many things this tale might teach—But I am not ordained to preach.
Onward and upward,Simon Trask
(I’m a small business owner, advisor, and advocate – learn more here)
Simon is author and founder of Profit Hiker: 11 Trails to gain lasting elevation in your business. Find the book right here and the program over there.
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