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awaiting the children who come
in the daylight hours
and at night
when the wind whistles
all the horses on carousel
round and round we go
this life of beautiful illusion
invites us to get on board and
ride the magic
and we do
joy is in knowing the illusion
participating in awareness
partake of the colors and lights
sounds and sights
but get off when it pauses
and treat ourselves
to the peace of sitting on the bench
and watching the laughter of the children
who are innocents
but growing egos
and it becomes more than a game
more than simple joy
fighting over who is next and shoving in line
and then limited seats
on the painted ponies losing their shine
and someone says
'I will build my own'
until there are no more green spaces
or vast plains or high desert pastures
only whirling colors and rides
and lights and noise
and still there are never enough seats
on the merry go round
then give me the quiet bench
in the corner under the shade tree
or the sparkling brook where we are nourished
happy to get on the merry go round
ride a short while
and then relinquish my seat to another
and another
and look at how happy they are at first
squealing in joy
the short adrenaline rush
where the pony goes up and then down
we clutch the pole so we won't fall off
wanting to get off on our own
step down without falling but
sometimes dizzy from the motion
we stumble or fall in spite of our best efforts
pick ourselves up, rest, take a break
then choose when/if it's right for us to get on again
some go every day, or every weekend
others wait for the annual event
that draws them out of their comfort zone
to explore the glitter and glamor of the world
'lights--camera--action'
and hold on as long as they can
bullies don't let the younger children ride
holding onto their seats
struggling against those who say
'you've had your turn'
and crying
'it wasn't long enough' or
'I want more'
really?
we are each deserving of enjoying the spectacular
if we want to participate
yet some never get to ride
they have neither money nor status to buy a ticket
but the wise, oh the wise... pause...
swing from the branches of trees bending low
and run through fields of wild flowers
jump-splashing in and out of puddles
making mud-pies and
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mustangs roaming the wide open plains
you can have your merry go round
if it means that much to you
I will walk along the road gazing at the sky
feeling the cool breeze
eating a blush-pink apple
feeling the strength of muscles
that must carry me the distance
however far that is...
to the corner of my bedroom or
to the top of the mountain
I would rather ride a real horse once
than a carousel horse forever
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"merry go round" was a writing prompt from Peggy Tabor Millin ClarityWorks
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