Visual Inspiration 365 // 54

Quote // The art of mothering, is to teach the art of living to children – Elain Heffner

– Dearest Mother,

I know you will be reading this sooner or later cause your pretty much one of biggest fans, as you check this most days (bless your cotton socks!) so thought I would wish you a Happy Mother’s Day from this platform : )

Now I could wax lyrical about the 1001 things that make you the best Mother…or I could write you a pseudo-haiku as I know how much you like them…or maybe its just that you tolerate my absurdity ; )

Golden words she sings,

“Dragon, fly inside a jar.”

Twenty years mistaken.

(For as early as I could remember, you would sing me a song/lullaby which unbeknownst to me at the time was actually the first verse and chorus from “The Circle Game” by Joni Mitchell…….and for a good twenty or so years I believed with all my heart that the second line of the song was about catching a dragon that “fly” (flew) into a jar…NOT an actual dragonfly.

Apparently my brain synapses missed the logical connection of dragonfly vs. dragon + jar completely.)

So now I will forever and always sing dragon. Thank you for this and a million more things.

Love always,

Sommer x

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The Circle Game – Joni Mitchell

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

Then the child moved ten times round the seasons
Skated over ten year 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

Sixteen springs and sixteen summers gone now
Cart wheels cross to car wheels through the town
And you tell him take your time it won’t be long now
Till you drag your feet to slow those circles down

So the boy who dreamed tomorrow now is twenty
Though his dreams have lost some grandeur, coming true
There’ll be new dreams maybe better dreams a plenty
Before the last revolving year is through

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 again