Tag: calliope

And the seasons they go round and round
And the painted ponies go up and down
We’re captive on the carousel of time
We can’t return, we can only look behind
From where we came
And go round and round and round
In the circle game…
~Joni Mitchell “The Circle Game”

those lovely horses,
that galloped me,
moving the world,
piston push and pull,
into the past—dream to
where? there, when
the clouds swayed by
then trees, as a tire
swing swung 
me under—rope groan.
now, the brass beam,
holds my bent face,
calliope cadence—O
where have I been?
~Rick Maxson “Carousel at Seventy”

On thin golden poles
gliding up, sliding down,
a kingdom of horses
goes spinning around.

Jumper, Brown Beauty,
Dark Thunder, Sir Snow,
a medley of ponies
parade in a row.

Settled in saddles,
their riders hold on
to reins of soft leather
while circling along

on chestnut or charcoal,
on sleek Arctic white,
on silver they gallop
in place day and night.

Such spinning is magic,
(to dream as you sail)
with lavender saddle
and ebony tail,

whirling to music
in moonlight, spellbound,
galloping, galloping,
merrily go round.
~Rebecca Kai Dotlich “Carousel”

Under its canopy, in the shade it casts,
turns a world with painted horses,
all from a land that lingers a while
before it disappears.
Some, it’s true, are harnessed to a wagon,
but all have valor in their eyes.
A fierce red lion leaps among them,
and here comes ’round a snow-white elephant.

Even a stag appears, straight from the forest,
except for the saddle he wears, and,
buckled on it, a small boy in blue.

And a boy in white rides the lion,
gripping it with small clenched hands,
while the lion flashes teeth and tongue.

And here comes ’round a snow-white elephant.

And riding past on charging horses come girls,
bright-eyed, almost too old now for this children’s play.
With the horses rising under them,
they are looking up and off to what awaits.
~Rainer Maria Rilke from “Jardin de Luxembourg”

A few July memories:

Sixty-five years ago, I was a five year old having her first ride on the historic carousel at Woodland Park Zoo before we moved from Stanwood to Olympia.
Fifty-four years ago — a teenager working in a nursing home as a nurses’ aide after three days of training.
Forty-nine years ago – returned home early from my studies in Tanzania after four chimpanzee researcher friends were held hostage for ransom and eventually released
Forty-three years ago — deep in the guts of a hospital working forty hour long shifts, thinking about the man I was soon to marry
Thirty-four years ago — my husband and I picking up bales of hay in our own farm field, two young children in tow after accepting a new position doctoring at the local university
Twenty-seven years ago — raising three children and completed farm house remodel, supporting three parents with health issues, raising Haflinger horses, helping design a new clinic building at work, playing piano and teaching Sunday School at church
Twenty-whatever years ago – life spinning faster, blurring with work at home, on the farm, at clinic, at church. I begin writing to grab and hang on to what I can.
Sixteen years ago — one son about to move to Japan to teach and the other son to teach at Pine Ridge in South Dakota, daughter at home with a new driver’s license working with migrant children, a mother slowly bidding goodbye to life at a local care center, farming less about horse raising and more about gardening, maintaining and preserving.
Ten years ago — two sons married, daughter working as a camp counselor so our first summer without children at home. Perfect time to raise a new puppy!
Five years ago – A two year old granddaughter and two new grandsons! Daughter teaching, engaged to be married.
Two years ago – completed forty-two years of non-stop doctoring so I bid it goodbye.
Now – Three more grandsons! Two retired grandparents! Big garden on the farm but we’re slowing down.

The puppy’s face and our hair are turning white…

O where have I been?
We can only look behind from where we came and await what is ahead.

The decades pass, round and round – there is comfort knowing that through the ups and downs of daily life, we still hang on. If we slip and fall, there is Someone ready to catch us.

Looking behind you, where have you been? What awaits you where you are heading?