lion with a rabbit heart
Quiet was safer.
My roars would roll out choked with fear
Dissolving into coughs
Until I discovered
It is possible to be both
A lion and a rabbit at the same time.
Soft and hard
Afraid yet still strong
Staring down the future with trembling heart and twitching ears
Ready to pounce.
About flax-golden tales. Photo by Carey Farrell. Text by Erin Morgenstern.
finish one thing
It’s only one thing.
It shouldn’t be that difficult to finish.
It wasn’t difficult to begin
It happens all the time. A thing creeps into my mind unbidden. Appears out of nowhere or crawls out from the dark spaces between a lot of little ideas strung together.
And it sits there, glowing and existing and refusing to be ignored.
That one thing takes over my brain and I can’t focus on anything else.
So then the thought of being finished with that one thing, of letting it go, feels scary because my mind would be so empty without it.
Until the next thing comes along.
About flax-golden tales. Photo by Carey Farrell. Text by Erin Morgenstern.
deer
I should have made his legs shorter, but other than that I think I did a pretty good job considering he’s my first deer.
Well, he has antlers so maybe he’s a stag but he’s small, so deer seems more appropriate. Also he’s made of logs and sticks so it probably doesn’t matter.
I also forgot to give him a proper name but he responds to “Deer” and seems to like it.
I could have added hinges to his legs, maybe, that might have helped. He walks with a wobbly, uneven gait on his too-long legs. I worry he’s going to fall down but he always manages to right himself.
We’ve been practicing in the yard and I think he’s getting the hang of it, though sometimes he just jumps in little circles.
I asked him if he would have preferred shorter legs but he said no.
When I asked him why he said he likes his long legs because they let him jump higher so he can see more of the world.
About flax-golden tales. Photo by Carey Farrell. Text by Erin Morgenstern.
strange tides
The pirate ship crashed into the living room. If the window hadn’t been open it probably would have smashed the glass, instead it swooped against the side of the couch and hit the coffee table.
My mom said she didn’t want to waste money on an exterminator because they always charge by the size of the ship and not the number of pirates, and this ship was about as tall as the couch but had a fairly small crew.
I helped her gather up all the small objects and books in the room so they wouldn’t plunder, and then we left them in there with the doors closed and the window open.
I overheard the pirates arguing as they surveyed the damage, apparently they had been attempting to commandeer one of the cars parked outside but the breeze pulled them too far toward the house.
Strange tides, one of the pirates kept muttering, strange tides.
It took them three days to finish their repairs. We left a roll of twine and some duct tape and paper clips on the carpet nearby, my mom says that’s the best way to deal with them because it speeds up the repairs. (If you just drag the whole ship outside again they get confused and start pillaging.)
I didn’t see them leave, but I heard the neighbor’s car alarm in the middle of the night and in the morning the ship was gone and there was no sign of them except the broken coffee table and the tiny empty bottles of rum.
About flax-golden tales. Photo by Carey Farrell. Text by Erin Morgenstern.
well-intentioned snow coercion
We tried to get the snow to come inside so we could keep it.
So we would have it to play with on too-hot summer days.
We left the door open but other people kept shutting it.
The windows wouldn’t open so we made paper snowflakes and taped them to the glass.
We figured that the outside snow would see the paper snow and be intrigued and also know that snow was allowed to come in the house.
(We tried to arrange the paper snowflakes so they’d look like they were having a really good time indoors, like a snowflake party.)
When that didn’t work we went outside and talked really loudly about how great the inside of the house was compared to the yard and how snow would just adore the wallpaper in the downstairs parlor and oh, aren’t the chairs in the dining room so comfortable that they simply must be sat on?
(The dining room chairs are not really that comfortable but we did not feel too bad about lying because snow probably does not sit on many chairs and would likely not be able to tell the difference.)
But that didn’t work either and then the snow stopped so we went inside for tea.
We left the paper snowflakes on the windows, so the snow will remember us when it comes back.
About flax-golden tales. Photo by Carey Farrell. Text by Erin Morgenstern.
in gratitude to the lions who guard the saints
To the lions who have taken their solemn vows
To keep ever-watchful eyes on all that approaches
To carry concerns and worries so that others may continue without fear
And who bear burdens not their own upon their backs.
For your generosity we offer our gratitude and small sacrifices of time
We bring flowers and wine and wishes for your good health
Prayers for strength of body and mind.
We hope you hold your posts with pride
And remember always that whilst you guard the saints
The saints guard you as well.
About flax-golden tales. Photo by Carey Farrell. Text by Erin Morgenstern.