Whatever she did, however she asked, she would not be sent back until many days had set. To bide her time, she fills her head with words from dead men, for she thought them very wise, that had not reached her ears before.
She walked around town on her own often. First, she came across the old and huge church. The pride of the town.
She was amazed by its grandeur and magnificence that she felt she is being in a grand palace of someone who is as great as this church.
She looked about in a meticulous manner and saw things of equal majesty as that facade. Among them was a Tree of Life. Yet this tree had no leaves, but many branches in the shapes of ancestor after ancestor, until it reached the capital, where sits the fruit of this tree, One who is prayed to in such places.
A grand organ that was incomparable to all of the organs they had in her land.
The gilded throne worthy of the loftiest being, resting on such slender creatures but with the surest shoulders, who never quivered in this canopy of opulence.
The Master of the cathedral's structure sits behind the doorway's arch, listening and looking at the passers by under weary lids of marble. For it was noontide, the Bunny saw him asleep in the shelter of the shadows, away from the scourging sun outside. She slipped away before he could reprimand her for disturbing his nap.
The Bunny went out of the church and walked around the town, looking at the strangers and the houses as old as the looming church.
From the heart of the town, she decided to have a tour at the outskirts, away from these looming, silent stones, where the landscape gradually turns to greens and golds.
When Spring enters this place, the Daffodil is one of the flowers who greets her and sings aloud of her beauty.
“What a lovely scene it is!” said the Bunny.
"What are you waiting for here?" the Bunny asked.
"We are very glad that you came here to our door," the lady said with a smile.
Some distance from the chapel's lair, a small fountain with a head of a man poured water from his mouth. The Bunny approached him and have a drink. But as she came closer, she heard the fountain crying while pouring water from his mouth. She didn't hesitate to ask.
“Are you crying, sir?”
The weeping man said, “I was a tippler before. When my family left me, I went here to cry and cry, but I can’t! So I just pour my tears from my mouth. See how long I have cried! That I have turned into stone!”
“Pity for you, sir.” said the Bunny.
"Will you share my tears?" he sobbed.
The Bunny took a handful of them and drank. It felt cold and sank to a place within the dark of her chest. It tasted of stone and regret.
And she realized that in this town, not all is happy. And she missed her far, far land, and her Cat waiting there.
She bade her farewell to the man and walked some more, then saw a sad serpent with a plant blooming from its mouth.
"Here is Isabella, and her spouse Ferdinand. And here is Cardinal Alfonso, and there is Old Triton." The Bunny rattled off abruptly, to their surprise.
"And me?" said the woman at the rightmost post.
She paused, and then remembered. "Melusina, perhaps?" The bunny smiled at them, but they could only sigh more.
With that, she lifted her lips in a weary effort of a smile. "Why is it that a stranger knows but none from here?" The other heads nodded.
Melusina then asked: "Are you lost?"
"No... and yes..." She trailed off and looked to the sky. By now the sun was trudging to the horizon, so she said, "I best better be going..."
"Do not forget us!" They implored as she took her farewells.
There, in her dreams, she gave the book to her Cat, who is in the other side of the world. When the Cat woke up, he was inspired to the stories that he wrote it on this blog and tell the stories for those who pass by here.
***
And there you go, the last of the four-part series of the Bunny's tales from the far far land. Or should I continue this until her final day at the far far land. Any suggestions? And sadly, I couldn't post any of my latest illustrations today since I still have not scanned them yet. :(
I hope you liked this little tale of sorts, though! This shall do for the meantime.
2 comments:
You are pair of poets who see into the corners of things :)
A wonderful tale indeed! And wonderful drawings too.
Spring hope for the bird to fly.
Oh I did enjoy this! A true traveller's tale.
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