A Tale of Notions – Part III

A journey  reflecting what is or isn’t – allegory taken to the extreme. This is being written in segments yet posted as a whole each time.  Dates in bold show when the previous segment was posted. This is segment three…

Continue reading “A Tale of Notions – Part III”

Bradford Bunny

“Hi, I’m Bradford Bunny,the splotchy skinny bunny called through the fence. “Would you like to be friends?” The bunnies hanging around the clover patch inside the rabbit farm stopped eating and hopped over to where Bradford was sitting.

“Bradford? What kind of name is that for a bunny?” the soft orange bunny with the white ears asked.

All the bunnies began to laugh.

“Braaaaadfurrrd…are you a girl or a boy?” the dark brown bunny teased.  She was laughing so hard she could barely speak.  Of course that sent the other bunnies rolling.

“hahahahahahaha”…the laughing went on for what seemed like forever to Bradford.

“I’m a girl,” Bradford said trying to be confident. “My mother named me Bradford because that was the name of the warren from where she came. She loved her home very much and she loved me too.”

“bahhaaaahaaa…a mommy’s bunny,” a large white and black bunny managed to get out.

Bradford turned and quickly hopped back across the grass to the woods. She could hear the sounds of laughter fading as she went. Tears began to fall.

“I tried to be nice. I tried to ask questions. Still no one wanted to play with me” Bradford Bunny wept more.

When she finished crying, she hopped to the edge of the pond to drink and wash her face. She leaned over and caught sight of her reflection.

I’m so ugly,” she thought.  “I’m brown speckled all over with a huge spot on my nose. No wonder they don’t want to play with me. I don’t want to play with me either.” Bradford began to cry some more.

Oh, why doesn’t anyone love me? Those bunnies have a nice home with friends and plenty of food.  If only I could be like them.”

Bradford went back to the edge of the clearing to watch the bunnies from a distance. She heard the sound of a big truck. It pulled around the farmhouse and stopped in the barnyard. A man spoke with the farmer then went around the truck to open the back.

She heard the little bunnies squeal. “Oh! We’re going on an adventure,” they shouted with delight. All the bunnies happily hopped up into the back of the truck and settled into the tiny packed cages. The door closed.

“An adventure,” sighed Bradford. Tears welled up in her eyes.

School Mornins’ With Sam

“Cents the sky ain’t fallin’ and the crek ain’t risin’ git up and git goin’. Ya won’t ‘mont to a hill of beans if ya don’t gitta move own. That’s all I gotta to say ’bout it.”

“Oh, mom, I’m only eight…and why are you talking like that?”

“Son, lessons learned when you are young will remain with you throughout your life. Listen to the wisdom of your elders and you will become wise among your peers.”

“Gee, dad, not you too? What’s going on around here?  I’m going to school. You guys are acting toooooo weird.”

Sam’s parents high-fived out in the hallway.

“Yes!” they whispered in triumph!

It was a short lived victory…

tomorrow

after all

was another

school day.

Grief of an Outsider

In the mind runs a chasm just this side of death                                                                         To go beyond would be to go too far

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The Legend of Penuel

His body arched as he breathed his last breath. There expelled a moan so intense it pierced the air and mingled with the wind. The wind latched on and rolled like thunder over the landscape…wave upon wave, the sorrowful sound reverberated against the mountain tops.  The earth groaned. In the fields, ripen grain bent low and all plants dropped their fruits in sorrow. Bereavement became the babble sent down the brook into the valley.  All creatures of Penuel mourned; their hearts wounded for they knew the struggle had ended. They had lost…and the little grey lion was gone.

They wondered what would become of them. The grey lion held their hope, their destiny…their promise of a new beginning. Now nothing…nothing but greyness of mind and soul. A winter’s landscape filled with sunless sky and biting wind and echoes of loss and lost. Time moved slowly, a begrudging trudge. Every new day brought sameness – hunt, eat, sleep, wake…die.

 

____________

and the legend begins….

 

artwork by  jeremiah morelli

Title: “in the woods”