One morning, I awoke to find a great ferris wheel rising just outside my window.
It spun like a radiant sun, casting golden rays that reached into my home, calling my name.
It felt as though the universe had placed it there,
waiting for me to step into its circle.
I stepped outside to behold its majesty.
The world was strangely still –
no crowds,
no music,
no carnival laughter –
only me,
standing at the threshold of wonder.
My heart longed to ride,
to rise into the sky,
to see what was hidden from the ground,
to glimpse the shape of the world from above.
But a voice stirred beside me –
the steady, sensible weight
I carry inside.
It searched for an anchor,
as if money or permission
were required before entering such a sacred cycle.
I waited, letting that voice wander, scanning the horizon
for the right moment,
searching for reasons.
Nearby, a booth appeared.
A woman stood within it,
her face veiled by her own hair.
She did not speak,
nor beckon.
She was simply a presence at the edge of mystery,
I left her unapproached.
The ferris wheel,
which at first seemed so close,
now appeared farther away.
Yet its light still dazzled me.
And though I never climbed
aboard,
I stood beneath it,
gazing up at what might be –
awed,
humbled,
and strangely at peace
with my waiting.
The wheel turned on,
eternal,
waiting.
It was not your time to ride on the wheel. At least not that wheel, since we are riding our own wheel of life right now. ;))
Hello Fia Naturie. I love your perspective! It’s a beautiful way to think about it – that we’re all on our own wheels of life, and sometimes the journey is about waiting for the right one. Thank you for that insight.
You are a natural story teller. The underlying narrative of waiting, the anticipation, is that which separates the human from the beast. I grew up in a seaside town where the fair was the pulse of the streets and held the beat of human existence. Excellent write.
Thank you so much. I love that memory of your seaside town – it must have been a delightful place to grow up in. The idea of the fair as the pulse of the streets beautifully mirrors the anticipation I was exploring in the poem. It’s a perfect way to think about how waiting and wonder shape our human experience. I’m really glad it resonated with you.
Once I started reading I couldn’t stop. Great writing, Roma.
Hey Tim, thanks! Your comment is like a perfect Ferris wheel ride – it gives me a whole new view. I appreciate it.
Damn, this is good. Sometimes we are only allowed to watch, to look up, to imagine.
But our time to ride will eventually come.
You create an interesting mood, with a carnival ride without the carnival or crowd and a ticket booth that is there but really isn’t. Almost like we are enticed to buy a ticket, but the dream just suddenly disappears.
Excellent piece…
So good to read you again.
j.
Thank you so much, J. I deeply appreciate your comment, especially coming from someone whose work I’ve always admired for its depth and metaphorical precision.
I’m glad you connected with the poem’s mood; your phrase “a carnival without the carnival” is perfect.
The poem was born from a dream, and it felt like waking into a subliminal space- an echo of something I’m still hopeful for. You’ve perfectly captured that sense of waiting and imagining what might be.
I have a fear of heights, so I would never climb on board, although gladly stand in awe and watch. Very nicely narrated piece RomaJ. Reminds me of the Ferris wheel in Torquay, in the west of England that I am very happy to watch while sipping my breakfast tea when on holiday.
Chris
Thank you, Chris! I actually went on a Ferris wheel a few years ago, and discovered I have a fear of heights!
I was fine with them when I was younger, but once we started moving, I thought I was going to faint. I was so focused on just breathing that I couldn’t even enjoy the view.
That image of you watching the Torquay Ferris wheel with your tea sounds so peaceful. I think I would much prefer that to a ride!
Superb work. You bring this to life. I was on Writer’s Cafe as well.
Hello Thomas W. Case. Thank you so much! I really appreciate you saying that. Yes. I remember just reading your poetry on Writer’s Cafe. A fellow writer there, recommended your name, and it’s a pleasure reading your poetry.
It depends on what the metaphor of the ferris wheel means. One way to see it as dying, death as it has those “golden rays”. In which case, NO don’t get on, no matter how bright and tempting it may be. On the other hand if the ferris wheel is metaphor for life, then the longer you wait to ride, the more you will miss out on, those regrets and what ifs. Even a fear of heights (you mentioned in one of your replies) can only be overcome by facing it. I too have a fear of heights, but I went to the top of the Sears Building in Chicago and forced myself to look out and down. I held on to the railing extra tight. The vertigo kicked in, but I didn’t fall nor faint. Next time I am going to leave go of the railing and have someone hold me up!!! … lol
Anyway. thanks for the vertigo and a wonderful poem Roma.
-Curt
Dear Curt,
Thank you for sharing such a thoughtful perspective. I love how you saw the ferris wheel as both life and death -that duality is exactly the space my dream seemed to hold. For me, the dream felt like standing at the edge of something big, knowing the “ride” is there, but also feeling the stillness and peace of just waiting. It reminded me that the wheel keeps turning, and the chance to step on will be there when I’m ready.
It’s one thing being in a dream, but standing on top of the Sears Building is a whole other level. I don’t think I could do it – my mind would go straight to “falling” and my body would just follow, if I didn’t faint halfway up! Just thinking about that is terrifying. You’re a very brave man. Thank you for sharing your story and fthe actual feeling of vertigo it gave me haha
Best,
Roma
Beautifully penned, Roma. Amazing storytelling my friend with such stellar imagery. Excellent. Appreciate you.
Damian
“…I left her unapproached…”
The best line I’ve read in some time RomaJ.
I’m glad that line struck you! Sometimes, leaving the mystery alone is the most profound choice of all.
We’ll never know… 😉
Greetings,
Magnificent piece. This lured me in and kept me intrigued from start to finish. The words captivate and the delivery was well executed.
Thank you so much for this thoughtful feedback! I’m so glad the piece lured you in and held your attention -that means a lot. This poem came from a dream I had, so when you say it kept you intrigued, I feel like you’re stepping into that dream with me and witnessing it as I did.