The Blue Balloon

I saw a blue balloon
passing by a window,
and wondered
where it might be going?

I stretched my neck
from the window sill.

Down below
on the tarmac,
and sorrow.
A small child struggles between
awe and regret.

The balloon is not troubled
And would have said so,
If only that little boy’d understand.

Don’t my actions say enough?
We do not speak the same language
It wobbles as if shrugging,

The child gathers a crowd
through alarm bells and tears
yet is comforted without love or belief

Mothers and Fathers gather to watch
and remember what it was like to be free

The balloon of blue
bewildered and buoyant
set its sights on the big yellow orb

Looked all around,
and wondered what had become
of its knot and its holding cord.

“These are my chains!”
It calls from afar
Waiting for an answer
from that great, minor star.

On how to get out
and to brake through the clouds,
that linger languorously.

Perhaps that’s how
You’ve climbed so high?
It thinks as it wiggles in the pale blue sky.

“This is the anchor
that held me down there
This is what all men
dread and fear.”

Release from their shackles
and soar in the breeze.
To take hold of stars
which seem out of reach?

The cord that the child held
fell from the knot
That loosened and opened
as the balloon breathed out.

The big yellow orb
Laughed as he passed
“Why must they hold on
to things that won't last?”