|Follow the White Rabbit ▼
I hope to gain a wisp of whimsy. To find focus in all the surreality of the last year. How much more topsy turvy can things get than that. I was already falling aimlessly at least in this activity I know there will be a bottom. I hope to find more than fear and misery among the festive folly; to see more in the future than facemasks and hand sanitizer.
The Antipathies ▼
I find myself among people who have their butts above their brains. Sound familiar I thought so. People like this are prone to rash decisions other than putting balm on their rears. They titter back and forth about banal options for their realities. Who cares what fool they vote for, in a caucus full of idiots. The way they treat each other is with the attitudes of tools.
I try to turn them right side up, or at least to get them to consider it. But they are so set in their ways they call me the upside-down one, lacking in priorities. There is no middle ground between us. My black is their white; my wrong is their right. But I could see them having trouble when their farts blow their minds.
The Golden Key ▼
The key for me
a future too bright to see
a home, a hearth my own property
a place for me to be
such wondrous possibility
all found within my golden key.
The Hallway ▼
I look to my left and right. Doors both large and small line the walls. I choose one decorated with gilded carvings of a garden. I open it with the golden key and see miles and miles of a garden as far as I can see. Flowers in full bloom smile up at a golden sun. The leaves are so green they redefine the word. It is beyond emerald, beyond spring. It is a green more alive than life itself. The colors of the flowers are just as bright. The blues are deeper than the sea or sky. The violets are more regal than any empress. The sunny yellows glow with unearthly brightness. The reds are deeper than blood red they breathe crimsons and vermillions.
I somehow find my way to the center of all this beauty and breathe in the melodies of the fragrance somehow unsurprised by its complexity. The leaves smell of chlorophyll and the flowers smell of the earth and the colors that they bear. Somehow flowers from all seasons have found the now they can share, not too hot or too cold. It is a place I never want to leave. The smell of fruit wafts over that of the flowers.
My hunger draws me off toward an orchard of epic proportions. Trees have both blossoms and mature fruit hanging from them in an epic blending of seasons. I pluck a perfect apple and bring it to my lips. I can taste it before my teeth part its skin. I bite into it and come away with the juiciest most apple tasting mouthful I have ever chewed. The flesh is crisp and challenges my teeth in just the right way. I have soon devoured the fruit and am left with unsatisfied hunger. I move on to a cherry tree, the fruit of that tree leaves red dribbles down my chin. From oranges, I find citrus satisfaction. Pears are followed by grapes straight from wild growing vines. I follow my hunger through the orchards to a farmhouse. The sun is setting behind the house and my eyes feel very heavy. I head inside and Goldilocks my way through the bedrooms until I find one with a featherbed upon a mattress made of solidified clouds. I fall into the soft nest and cover up with a featherlight comforter and quilt. My eyes drift closed and dreams as sweet as my day begin.