Falling down the hole that has no bottom,
like Alice on her great adventure in Wonderland,
my heart beats fast and hard–
I hear it in my ears, throbbing–but whose ears are they?
The white rabbit I followed who ran away
with my dust mop?
Why would he want my dust mop anyway?
There is a bottom to that hole and I am bottomed out.
Ears are ringing as if someone is talking about me
but all I see are a tiny door
and a bottle labeled “drink me.”
My mop is nowhere to be found and that damn rabbit,
with those two long, white ears,
has gone missing again.
Nothing to lose–I drink up and hope this brew
brings the merriment of so many before it.
Instead, my ears burn, my body aches,
and I feel the weight of the world
pressing down on me. Smaller and smaller,
I fear disappearing altogether into insignificance–
which I may as well be if I’m down here
with these damn dust bunnies.
Where is my dust mop, anyway?
The door is ajar and the time is right,
so I go on through it with no expectations in sight.
Go with the flow, after all–
no point in fighting it when long-eared rabbits
call you out to adventure,
even though you’re normally not so adventurous.
What do you hear?
There’s a whole new world waiting out there–
if only you’d take a risk (or a drink)
and go through that door.
You just never know…
There may be a place where the dust bunnies
take hold of your mop in revolt–freeing
you to be so much more.
From a writing exercise in my Creative Writing class…
–(c) Carrie Vibert 2010, all rights reserved–