Rabbit Hole Day

Lewis Carroll was born on January 27th. The idea of Rabbit Hole Day is to stop making sense for 24 hours to honor the birthday of the guy who came up with Alice and the white rabbit and Cheshire Cat and all that. I, however, take a different approach. I honor the day not by being inane and insane but by penning a poem that attempts to mimic something. You get to decide what it mimics.

The Mountaintop


"My son, much wisdom have I earned
in years gaflecting through this life,
and leaves both diftly and supimely turned
through happy times, still boredom, and raw strife.


Now to the mountain you must go
and seek yourself the whigid peak,
through thrickened air and white, pernulling snow
to find the wise man there and bid him speak.


Avoid the Anter-Frithing Bear,
with brakish claws and grizing teeth,
and of the black distawling trees beware--
their gnabbish limbs and tangled roots beneath.


And when you reach the mountain's top,
behold the effervizzent view.
You'll find the wise man only when you stop--
for wisdom found is wisdom that finds you."


All this, my father said, and more
and sent me off with heavy pack.
I stand upon the summit, muscles sore,
and look ahead, and left, and right--not back.


Alone, I call out for the man
to see if he will come and speak.
I turn to face the place where I began,
when just a boy I set of for this peak.


So long ago!  So far away!
A lifetime's journey, there to here.
I sit alone in silent, gray dismay
and wonder if the wise man will appear.


I think of what my father taught,
and all the things he said to do.
And then my father's voice floats to my thought:
"Behold, my son, the wise man:  it is you."