I’ve left all the bunnies
in a cupboard for two days.
Why would I put them
in a cupboard?
How is it I forgot them
after rescuing them?
They tumble out, every
shape, size and shade of bunny
and I fall in love with them all
as they explore the room.
They seem no worse for my lapse,
but I am so distraught,
my husband wakes me from
sleep as I whimper.
Hours later, I still wonder
what precious and vital thing
have I locked away?
I don’t want to wake up
to my life tomorrow or next year
or ever to discover I have
not cared for the treasure
entrusted to me. All day,
there are no rabbits, no cupboards,
no locks. Only this life
with its tendernesses,
its vulnerabilities. All day,
I open every door
of the mind, of the heart.
No doubt there are more I can’t find.
I feel for the doors with the fingers
of my heart. Whatever’s inside,
I want it to breathe.
Everything seems
to depend on this:
not only that I care
for the treasure,
but that I let it free.