The carousel was there in
the Byzantine Empire.
Dated bas-relief tells us
it was early 500 AD.
Not mentioned or lost in time
is the name of the inventor,
who lived in a city that
changes names often,
and yet remains the same.
He surely was a poet,
for he invented
a timeless metaphor.
You can mount his Lion
and feel brave.
Or take a ride on the Bear
and feel strong.
If it is fleet you seek,
ride Striped Zebra.
Stand tall and hold
the giraffe's neck.
The mighty steed
prepares you for battle.
The tortoise or the hare
it matters not,
for they always tie
and never win.
Black Beauty beckons
as parade leader
but is always
in the middle
of the pack.
Choose and mount.
Routinely up and down
and once again.
Predictably round and around
and once again.
Repeated happy music sounds,
over and over again.
Neither the speed nor strength
of your mount matters.
You beat no one.
You are where you started.
Once again, round and round,
up and down
all to happy music.
This is where we bring
our children so
they can go to where they were.
As usual, round and round,
up and down.
Byzantium became Constantinople.
Constantinople became Istanbul.
The poet dies and ages pass.
But still the carousel reminds us still
of our lives.
Habituated round and round,
up and down
until the happy music stops.
Doug Minnis
August 17,2009