BALLOONS

                                       BALLOONS

In the eastern, morning light,

Such an unexpected sight-

Three balloons soft-drift on by,

Far upon the wide, bright sky.

One is orange; one is blue;

One a reddish-purple hue;

Riding on a breeze-born motion,

Vessels on an airy ocean.

From on high, they’re gazing down

To the earth beneath- the town

Seems like a map there, where below

Tiny, toylike people go.

Streets are gray lines shaped between

Rooftop red and treetop green.

River snake slides through the land,

Crossed by busy highway band.

So I imagine from down here,

Watching them drift on the clear

Sky of day until they are

Merely dots upon the far.

Sudden longing makes me sigh

To be lost upon the sky,

Seeking strange adventurous ways
Beyond the skyline of my days.

Then I think how mind can dare

To explore without a care

Through vast realms of time and space

And like an airship leave no trace.

As I turn away to do

All the tasks of this day’s due

In my mind I see that I

Can still fly on thought’s clear sky-

And, at times, swap earth-bound sight

For this riding in the light,

Looking at the broader scene,

Showing what the details mean.

I turn to take a final view

But they’ve vanished in the blue,

Leaving but this thought behind

Of the freedom of the mind.