I wrote this poem for someone who was at one point very close to me. The person was in love with Alice in Wonderland, so that's where the theme came from. One is a name, not a number. The picture is from Central Park, the Alice in Wonderland statues, I took it a few years ago.
Rabbit Holes (The Life of One)
Pills and needles
Or birds that are forever soaking wet could control a future
Where would One choose to drop inside?
Does a rabbit hole hold the power to change the past and make everything different?
For right or wrong
Love or Hate
Where would One choose to fall?
What if One tripped over oneself and found less inside when One assumed One was much more full?
What if One choose the wrong hole?
Can One back track again?
How much can One really change the past?
What if One just can't seem to make everything the was One envisioned?
Perfection dangerously misleading One's heart's content
What if One choose a hole to make the world disappear?
One got what One wanted
Found oneself in a black hole where nothing was clear
Would One be content with nothing?
The everything One had said One wanted
At what point would One decide enough was enough and climb to the top?
When One reached the light would One search for a new hole to try?
A new was to change One's life
A new way to change the past
Or would One stay clear of the rabbit holes?
And just try again to never need another place to hide?
What if One found one was only hiding from oneself?
What if One embraced oneself and awoke with a tear?
All along One was safe alone
By ones self
Under the shade of a watchful tree One calls life
Living
And fear of a nature One can't control
But has to learn to trust
What if oneself meet this realization with action?
And began again with a new sense of self and a sense of what living and loving really means?
Can One become 2 becoming 1 and not lose oneself?
Can One stop jumping from rabbit hole to rabbit hole and let the watchful tree determine the future
One would like to think so.
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