The Man What Lived in a Rabbit Hole [POETRY]

​In the days when machines ruled over man,
When neighbor knew not neighbor, nor cared to,
When digital lines were impressed upon
His eyes and mind, in those difficult times
Did Isaac Albemarle move away from
The hill country of Kentucky’s east land
And settle in Alabama’s flatlands.
A man of middling means from the coal mines,
No one seemed to know any more ‘bout him.
But they did think him rather queer, as he
Refused to eat the succulent backstrap
Bacon for breakfast, at supper, dinner,
Or any other time of day or night,
And on Wednesdays and Fridays he refused
Positively to eat anything a ‘tall,
Saying this was to honor the suff’rings
Of his Jesus on those days, someone we
Remembered then a little hazily
In winter and in spring with social
Media posts, and AI-suggested gifts.
But he straight eschewed our electronic
Ecosystem, and most queerly of all,
Dug himself a cave in the earth in which,
He said, he would pursue the Trinity
Whom he so desperately longed to catch.
How he would catch anything other than
Pneumonia or possibly even
Rickets in a hole that flooded half of
The time, well, we couldn’t just rightly say.
But there he lived anyway, turning round
In his hand a curious little rope,
And repeating a short little prayer
To his beloved Jesus. ‘Tweren’t long after
That all the strangeness started: Animals,
The wild ones, would roam about the entrance
To his cave, acting very calm and tame,
And when he appeared and blessed them with his
Hand in a cross-like motion, then they left
Looking very blithe. And then there were lights,
Bluish-white, that would appear, a column,
Sometimes, stretching high above his hovel
Up into the sky; other times, little
Spheres that blinked in and out of our eyesight.
The unearthly singing that caught our ears
Unnerved us not a little, all agreed.
Nevertheless, inexplicably, people
Would declare they were drawn to that thar cave,
And in the presence of the man inside
They would feel a pleasant warmth within them,
And peace, and would speak with him about it.
He would only say that it was the Grace
Of God given out of His goodness to
Men, and had nothing to do with shameful
Sinners like himself. It hardly mattered.
Ere long, he found that he had companions
Of the human kind living nearby, who
Sought to receive his guidance ev’ry day.
This distressed the humble Isaac not a
Little, but the Voice of God spoke to him
Through the mouth of a doe: ‘Disdain them not.’
He obeyed and helped them in various ways.
For their hands, accustomed to holding
Phones and other ‘smart’ devices, he taught
The use of hoe and hammer and other
Practical tools. For their hearts, he gave them
Prayer, that God might there make His abode.
Their techno-toys he bade them grind fine and
Refashion into more useful items –
A broom handle, a window pane.
And quite remarkably, like a seed
That begins very small but becomes with
Time a full-grown, mature organism,
So did the little community round
Isaac Albemarle become a Christian
Town, a model for how to live on earth
While striving to acquire Heaven’s Kingdom.
For many years Isaac was their abba,
And they loved him dearly, so that when he
Said to them, ‘I shall soon depart from you,’
They were deeply grieved. But he assured them
He would help them after his forth-faring
As he always had, if he with Christ had
Found favor. And so he had. After death
And burial, the little town’s life thrived,
So much so that other Southrons took note
And began to emulate it. And while
It is not easy to change the course of
A large ship sailing upon the ocean,
Or to quickly heal a body ravaged
By disease, there is good hope in Dixie
Now, because of Abba Isaac, that she
Can live a customary life again.