There was a rabbit whom had many pleasures in life. He loved the hill in which he lived and the grass upon which he fed. But it was his loneliness that kept him close to his burrow and away from others.
Day to day rabbit would wake from his slumber and find his way from his grass and straw bedding. There he found peace and solitude in the damp, cool darkness. He would poke his little whiskery nose from his burrow and sense the depth of the day. He would sense as deeply as a small rabbit could sense something.
Rabbit lived in a valley between fields of grain and a old town that held memories of the great depression. From that place came few life stirring interruptions which was just fine with him. But sometimes, in a longingly desperate kind of way, rabbit wished something might happen. That a large black dog might come and chase him and flush into his life some form of excitement. But no. No dogs would ever chase him and no apron laden women would run him out of their gardens. He was alone.
When he would leave his burrow rabbit had few places to go. Only to find food and maybe bask in the afternoon sun on the hillside would he venture forth into his world. He had no one to spend these days with though. The badger, the fox, the crow; all of these animals had no time for rabbit. They all had too many other things to do.
They had too many trees to explore, too many thickets to wander and too many mice to feed on. And as the days did stretch, rabbit found that in nothing could he find joy. In nothing could he find love. His daily naps in the sun were failing his heart even with the consistency of the suns sweetening warmth. His burrows sheltering walls could no longer bring any protection against the loneliness in which he now basked in. And one day, he sparked out from his home. Or whatever it was that he called home.
The skies brought days of open sunlight and a blueness upon which few eyes have seen; even a rabbits. Rabbit had to set out for something in which he knew nothing about. But in his small mind, he knew there had to be something else. There had to be someone who could see him and hear him as he was meant to be. So, as the sun rose that next morn rabbit found his way to the sunlit rim of his burrow and peered out. The grass seemed new and the trees blew in a way that he had never seen before. They seemed this way because today was going to be different, today was going to be life changing.
He was to set out on an adventure. Not one of safety or one of known paths. But rather, one of dark passages, lonely paths and cold nights. But for rabbit, if this meant happiness and freedom from his damp home and lonely hill then so be it.
So on his journey he began. With his sadness left behind like a whithered vine, he set out to find what he sought. A friend, a love, a warmth in which he would never have to wonder if it be true.
Through thickets of thorn and fields of dust rabbit did go. Sleeping in fallen willow trunks and feeding on the seeds of the pine cone. Little did he sleep with fears of the unknown dancing through his mind. But rabbit felt in his tiny bones that something was near. That somewhere close, in a field not so far off a friend lie in wait.
As that next morning rose like a flower from the grave rabbit found his footing on a hillside and made his way skyward. When reaching the top his black, marble eyes fell upon something that rabbit had never seen. There, in front of him stood towers of stone, pillars of rock. they are pointed crags upon which blankets of white did lay. Rabbit had never been in the presence of something so grand and he was instantly in love.
At their base lay the greenest of fields with stone walls running through them as snakes through the grass. Winding there way in and out of great clusters of oak. The wind blew gently and with it the grass of the land shone with glory and pride. Rabbit had found his new home, but what of a love, a friend?
He wandered through the last bit of thicket laden hillside and then, all at once found himself in a heaven which he never knew. A heaven in which even his dreams failed to completely grasp or picture. But now, here in this place and in this time, rabbit knew that it was real. And even if he were to only be able to experience it for a brief time, it was enough. It was enough for his small life to know that things greater than himself shown the depth of his thoughts. That somewhere on the tops of those pillars of stone sat a being that knew all things and that placed all things together.
And for him, this was by far the most comforting thing that his little heart had ever felt.
As rabbit made his way down to the valley his paws felt a sensation in which was unfamiliar. He felt a lightness in his step and a warmth from the ground that made him feel safe and good and loved. And then rabbit saw him.
He was flawless; the definition of perfection. He walked out from behind a stone wall into the openness of the field and then stood still staring at rabbit. There was a glow shining from his wool and everything around him was perfectly still. A quiet came across the land and all things were clear and rabbits eyes opened wide. His ears were perked but he needed them not. For all that he needed to hear he had already heard and all that he needed see he had already seen. All things were shown to him and yet, in the lambs perfect light he could see nothing.
And there, in that moment his legs gave way and his body lie soundly on the grass of the field. The lamb then came close and laid down by rabbits side. Rabbit had found his love, he had found his joy and he had found a warmth that made his heart burst within himself. And the rabbit thought that this, here in the field with the lamb, was the perfection that rabbit longed so desperately for.
