Monday, August 5, 2013

The Bunnies of the Lighthouse

The subject of snow bunnies must be approached cautiously and with due reverence;  it is not a matter to be taken lightly.  
To be able to see snow bunnies, a person needs preparation; it is a lot like allowing your eyes to get used to the dark.    But the dark in this case  is the wonderful dark  where the snow bunnies live, and the eyes may take a very very long time to adjust;  because that darkness is lit, but with a different kind of light.

Accordingly, we shall not directly address the delicate subject of snow bunnies tonight.  Instead, we shall begin with their forerunners, the Bunnies of the Lighthouse.   I first learned of these from our son, over twenty years ago, when he had just turned five.   From out of nowhere, a propos of nothing at all, he cried out -- or some voice from the realm of angels, called out from within him:

The Bunnies of the Lighthouse!   
They toil not;  neither do they spin.

And that is what started the whole thing.

~   ~   ~


"The bunnies of the lighthouse:  They toil not; neither do they spin."
            --our son, age 5, mysteriously

Upon the hill   above the bay,
the lighthouse bunnies play and play.

Nor ink nor grease  their paws doth soil,
nor their brow crease  the woes of toil.

Beneath God's great and glowing sky
they fruitful are, and multiply.

They neither knit, nor weave, nor spin:
they wear no clothes:  they know no sin.

From dawn to dusk  they lark and play,
each turn of earth  a Sabbath day.

And when the shades of night descend
back to the lighthouse  they must wend.

They cuddle close, they snuggle tight,
and breathe against the black of night.

All safe and warm upon their cot,
for then they know –   we know not what.

To each his creatures, God imparts
what thing they need  to fill their hearts.

To us it cannot be revealed,
what fills the lilies of the field.

We ate the fruit: and now we toil
to raise the same from out the soil.

We stripped the tree:  and now we spin
to cover up  our naked sin.

God rest them in their burrow, in their meadow, in their nest.
To each is giv'n, from each withheld;  each one is curst  and blest.

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