The Other Side of the Rabbit Hole

The Other Side of the Rabbit Hole

Alice!
I fell down a rabbit hole the other evening,
Just like you did.

I was strolling in my garden
And I came near my favorite Cyprus tree
Where I tripped over a root
And fell down a rabbit hole.
Right around 10 minutes past 6 o’clock

But, Alice,
It was not Wonderland.
There were no blue caterpillars,
No cats, no rabbits, no hatters.
No pretty tea parties,
No, nothing at all.

It was, instead an odd world,
I mean,
Odder (If there is such a word)
Than what Wonderland was,
A less funnier one, I’d say.

When I wiped off the dirt on my knees
And looked up at the sky,
I saw the sun; it was there,
Just right twelve inches above my head.
I could touch it with my fingertips
If I stood on my tiptoes, really.

The sun was smiling
With its fully bloomed yellow petals,
But, Alice,
Why didn’t anyone ever tell me
That the sun was really a sunflower
and not a ball of fire?

And then,
There was a pink tree,
A tree that had piano keys as its teeth.
Believe me, Alice,
It played Beethoven’s Sonata Appassionata
Like an actual, skillful piano maestro.

As I went into the woods,
I saw a wet, juicy brain hanging
From a branch of a dead tree.
My mischievous index finger poked it in wonder.
It spread its spider legs
And ran to a far corner of its web.

I could hear it blaming me for waking it
Without even spitting a word out,
Just like an old radio.
Oh, Alice,
I’m telling you
It wasn’t very nice.

I met the blue lady after that,
The queen of blue flowers.
She had a flower for her mouth,
Not for my wonder, of course.

It sprayed a lovely perfume
As she spoke, and that’s why
I smelled so good even after I left her.

Alice,
I wish I could tell you more about her,
If only I had understood what she said.

By the way,
I then met a kingfisher
Of blue and red feathers,
Who had the face of a 2-year-old baby.
She is the one who
Showed me the hole back home.

I… still cannot believe it.
Whether it was a dream
Or if I am dreaming now.

“Alice… Do you think that I have gone mad?”
Oh yes, I know the answer.
“All the best people are.”

Am I right?

| M.M Andrews