a rabbit hole

the crickets chirp in an almost forgotten realm
dawn, crisp and cool creeps back into bed
for just a minute, perhaps two
like me, let such a hot, sunny day complete the dream

falling through the pupil of my mind's eye
this eden green the iris seeming suddenly
large and distant as saturn's rings
that great titan's lips swallow me whole

down the hole i tumble, no petticoats
to billow and slow my fall
knocked and bumped and smacked about
and bruised and broken by a
decade's worth of trinkets and fetters
volumes of great works and buckets of junk
portraits of wonderful nobodies and clocks
that never knew the times, mirrors telling
tall tales and postcards of places i've
never been

softly and gently i land and i stumble upon that
fair oasis
the explorer in traditional grey garb on strange soil
treading a familiar tread, curious, relaxed until
a giant hand catches the nape of my neck
the world falls away, but only for a moment then
zooms terrifyingly back towards me
my body bent over the short grass digging into my cheek
and now
just out of the corner of my eye i see
his great big face and i hear
his great big drawl and
i comprehend
following his great big finger pointing
to my footsteps
which i must learn to do without

phoebus' chariot hurtles towards the horizon
playful colours brushing their fingertips across
the dusk of my naivety
the forest stretches over the lake
protecting the lady from night sprites and
pan lulls us softly with flute and tapping foot

three angels lead me to a grizzly old man
who, with warm smile, points to a place no compass could deduce
and i follow, with mystical shudder and shift
i seek the one true face of the forest

i don't seek long, but simply wander
old man forest greets me
as a long-lost brother
and i him
with slight suspicion though without foul intent
our customs strange, yet we share the same blood
i am placed in the care of three guides so fair
three silver faeries, wings a-shimmering
their lightest touch and eager direction
make me giddy with delight
then fear, for i cannot recall their names
nor, since their touch, my own

in such a foreign land, can one do better
than set his faith, hope and pray
and follow like a lamb?
with neither sword nor will to fight
stood i a chance against my brother's night?

rising darkly in the midst of
her grace's laughing, lapping waters
i find the land of the lizards
those enormous cousins of kings
who soothe petty dragons with their drums
with their strangely burning purple fires
each tended by an infinite sea
of witches and warlocks, imps and fauns
feeding their lords with intense prayer
as ants must serve their queen
and i, a sweet, a morsel
to be offered up, sugar-soul consumed

my faery guides observe with impartial interest
their eyes and manner giving me no hints
as a dark man, small eyes and large grin
a too-familiar figure, aged and wise
comes to take me by the hand
comes to lead me to the edge of all of these lands

as i stand on that great wall
keeping guard against the ghosts
that sweet lizard's drum sounds
from all around telling me
i need not fear lost souls
from the nothing that lies beyond
the forsaken steel and concrete forever
holding back the waters of that enchanted space
still under the protective wings
of frosty-blooded love

from beneath that great canopy of stars
we return to that of the old man's leaves
into a busy and bustling night city
merry dryads prancing and taunting
where shopkeepers hustle and converse
paying scant attention to their commerce
nor me, and while i stare stupidly
my wise friend disappears, and the bushes
produce naughty faces that greet me
tease me, frighten me before i
breathe again, here can be no enmity

i lose my way, and wander
first here, then there
the good night stretches, pushes back against
the morning
while i stare at the sky, praying to all the gods
i stand outside, even as i close in
digging holes too shallow to hide in
even from myself

i am wrapped in obscurity, then
as if suddenly ashamed of his oppression
chivalrous night lifts up his thumb
unties aurora from her bondage bed
dews her eyes, washing away the sleep-sand

she slowly stretches, matched
by those shy residents of the mushroom forest
waking, shaking sleepy dream-epiphany from their faces
relaxing into brightening restfulness
and the water nymphs, who she joins in their
merry honorary dip, then leaves
rising out to the sky with her arms, hands, fingers trailing
small streams as the droplets sparkle
from her forehead and long braids

out into the sunshine come the mad hatters and those
inexhaustible dryads who raise their hands
praise the rising sun
lost boatmen's laughter, rejoicing in finding their way home
all the old man's children come out to play
hyperion takes over and apollo steps down
to touch, to cup smiling faces
singing sweet songs to the children of the muse

then an engine roars, and i'm a passenger in a rocket ship
the launch incinerates that kingdom as we fly
with incredible speed
up
through the smoky blue skies
wrapped in loud, angry flames
through the black vacuum of the shattered remains
of my vision
through those twinkling points of that
shimmering paradise of my mind's eye
through now
through here
to look upon eden
that will surely soon be lost

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