– a poem by Madhuri Yelamanchili
Bunny rabbit and her dad leapt across the grass
One early morning, and sat in the meadow.
Noses twitching, tubby tails jiggling,
Whiskers whispering in the wind,
Bunny rabbit and her dad,
They sat and watched the sun rise.
“Tell me Bunny,” said dad to Bunny,
“What do you want to be when you grow up?”
“How high do you want to leap?”
“How far do you want to go?”
Bunny sat on her hind legs.
She looked up at her dad and she said,
“Daddy, I want to leap higher than the rest.”
“I want to run farther than the rest.”
“Tell me Bunny,” said dad, his voice grave.
“If your best leap can be higher,
Higher and higher than the others’ leap,
Do you still want to leap just higher than the rest?”
“Oh Bunny,” his eyes softened, “My darling girl,
If your farthest run is farther,
Farther and farther than the rest.
Do you still want to run a wee bit farther than the rest?”
Bunny’s eyes widened. She looked up at the sky.
She looked at the far mountains.
“No daddy,” she said and she smiled.
“I want to be my best, my highest and my farthest.”
Dad licked her head, “Higher or lower than the rest,
Farther or nearer than the rest,
Your highest and your farthest
Must be your very best,” he said.
“And when you do your best each day,
Wake up in the morning to beat your best
Every day, each day, my dear Bunny.
That’s how high you must leap, how far you must run.”