The Rabbit’s Hole
Sammy, a curious and happy little rabbit,
was hopping and skipping when—oops!—he tripped and fell flat on his nose.
He landed beside a tree, when something caught his eye…
a tiny glowing hole, sparkling like it held a sky full of stars.
He couldn’t resist. He had to take a look.
He leaned in slowly… and suddenly—whoosh!—down he went!
He tumbled and tumbled, rolling all around,
until at last, he softly touched the ground.
He had arrived somewhere strange… somewhere new.
A world unlike any he had ever known.
Everything shimmered in a single hue,
filled with wonder, and a curious kind of magic.
A prince rode by on a bicycle, ringing his bell—
“I carry a secret that only I can tell!”
Then Sammy spotted a rabbit in a long flowing coat,
teaching little ones how to hop sideways in a row.
With feathery ears and tails bright as the sun,
they laughed and they played, full of joy and fun.
“How peculiar these rabbits are,” Sammy thought,
as a warm little giggle inside him sparked.
“This must be the place where magic is born…”
High above, a tower stretched endlessly into the sky,
and in its window… a soft jasmine light flickered by.
Suddenly, Sammy woke up beneath the tree.
Perhaps the fall had made him drift into a dream.
Was it real?
Maybe yes… maybe no.
Or maybe…
it was just a dream after all.
Author: Karen Loewy
Story telling, music and sound design:
Hitayosara Ojeda, Manuel Ernesto Rivera, Camilo Ojeda
Sammy, un conejo curioso y feliz,
saltando y brincando tropezó… ¡y se fue de nariz!
Cayó junto a un árbol y algo brilló:
un hueco pequeño, lleno de estrellas, llamó su atención.
No pudo evitarlo, se quiso asomar;
se inclinó despacito… ¡y zas, a rodar!
Rodó y rodó, hasta que el suelo tocó
Llegó a un mundo distinto y eso lo sorprendió
Todo era de un solo color,
lleno de magia y de raro esplendor.
Un príncipe en bici su timbre tocó:
—¡Traigo un secreto que sólo sé yo!—
Luego vio a un conejo con manto largo,
enseñando a sus crías a saltar de lado.
Orejas plumosas, colitas de sol,
reían y saltaban con gran emoción.
—¡Qué particulares estos conejos! —pensó,
y una risa feliz en su pecho vibró.
—¡Seguro que aquí la magia nació!—
En lo alto brillaba una torre infinita,
y en su ventanita… una luz de jazmín.
Despertó de repente sentado junto al árbol.
Parece que el golpe lo había desmayado.
¿Quizá fue verdad? Tal vez sí… quizá no.
O tal vez, solo lo soñó. “
Author: Karen Loewy
Story telling, music and sound design:
Hitayosara Ojeda, Manuel Ernesto Rivera, Camilo Ojeda