The Painted Ponies Go Up & Down

Carouselride

Carousel Ride
Digital Montage by Jacki Kellum

Anyone who follows the chain of my blog posts will no doubt assess that for the bulk of my life, I have not had a great deal of money. I grew up in a town that poverty has essentially boarded shut; and my parents were not wealthy. https://jackikellum.wordpress.com/when-cotton-was-king/

Yet, at various times in our lives, a bit of money surfaced. My mother grew up during the Depression. Her own story was marked by poverty, until she married my dad; but she spent a great deal of her childhood in her grandparents’ home, which was fairly spectacular during her early childhood: https://jackikellum.wordpress.com/2015/10/17/what-my-mother-said-about-her-grandprents-home/

Although my mother’s grandfather had money at one time, he lost most of it during the Depression. At one time, my great grandfather owned miles upon miles of cotton fields. He was a wealthy farmer, but I have been told that during the Depression his land was sold for $1.25 per acre. My great grandfather’s wealth plummeted. My own financial history has echoed that trend; and my personal life was been a carousel, too. Things have continually sprung from great to terrible to great–a bobbing up and down–Yet, my ability to see life as a carousel and not as a travesty has saved me.

Copyright Jacki Kellum October 17, 2015

All Rights Reserved

In my opinion, Joni Mitchell was one of the greatest of the 20th Century poets. Allow me to share with you one of my favorite of her songs:

The Circle Game
Yesterday a child came out to wonder
Caught a dragonfly inside a jar
Fearful when the sky was full of thunder
And tearful at the falling of a star
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
Then the child moved ten times round the seasons
Skated over ten clear frozen streams
Words like when you’re older must appease him
And promises of someday make his dreams
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 …….
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