Poet’s Corner

The Existential Dream of White Rabbits

There is no doubt that therapy is often serious, difficult and deep.

But it can also be creative, playful and fun. Even silly… or any combination of the above.

This poem, first published in The Society for Existential Analysis’s Hermeneutic Circular, October 2025, draws on existential ideas as inspiration for a rhyme about an uncanny coincidence between a dream and the ‘real’ world.

Based on a true story!

I dreamt of white rabbits an image so clear

A mother and her babies lined up. I felt fear

She was trying to protect them… but one would be shot

She knew this, was helpless, how long had they got?

Which one would go first? Who pointed the gun?

Terror in her belly, dark clouds masked the sun

***

I woke up, unsettled, disturbed and quite sad

This dream of white rabbits – this nightmare felt bad

Then their memory faded. I couldn’t recall

’til the next day: a meal out, we entered the hall

A painting: a girl feeding rabbits – so white

The very same creatures I’d seen in the night

***

Took me by surprise and I inhaled a breath

Though this picture seemed sweet, reminiscent of death

Blonde-haired girl in pink dress who looked quite carefree

As I looked on, uneasy, she reminds me of… me

It dawned: I’m the mother, I’m the girl, and I fear

Losing those closest to me, those who I hold dear

***

Yet that feeling I had in my nightmare, frustrated

Is a sign – I am helpless, fears can’t be abated

Which one will go first? Which rabbit? Which dearest?

Someone I care less for? The closest? The nearest?

It could be a random, a great man, someone… less

And it’s so hard to swallow this whole randomness

***

of life, of next death, we never really know

Who will live? For how long? Oh how low will we go?

Stooping down, bending back, to reach that golden ticket

That might buy or borrow us some time. Could we nick it?

The existential moral to this tale, rabbit tail

Is make your own meaning. Walk your own trail

***

We cannot hold on to those we love the most

At the end of the day, we will all become toast

So try not to worry. Fear not and be brave

Death comes to us all – though we wish we could stave

it off from ourselves, from our loved ones, our honey

You’re alive, live in love. Live as free as a bunny!

🐇🐰🐇🐰🐇🐰🐇

©️Eilidh Horder, 2025.