Train of Thought

Escaping from the kid’s hand, the balloon lifted into the breezy night.
As I stood pumping gas into my car, looking at the limbs of a tree
against the background of the almost darkened sky,
sensing an electricity in this cool early spring evening
Feeling that feeling of power in knowing, and knowing all too well how little
I really know...
The tree and it’s clawing branches scratching at the windows to heaven...
Thinking how moments like these are what makes this life interesting
Then as I lean back stretching my neck, eyes closed, I open them and spy the
balloon blowing through the landscape, then I think how sad and
beautiful it is.
I think about an occasion when I was a little boy at a cousin’s birthday party
There was a moment after the party when children were setting their balloons free
And watching them ever so slowly ascend into the blue sky and disappear.
I remember thinking, how could our parents just watch this happen?
I imagined myself as the balloon soaring to great heights, far away
from the sounds and movement of  life on the ground,
I could not stop myself from feeling alone.
At that age I could feel the swiftness of this life and the longing for more time
There were many times during my youth when I felt the balloon slipping from my grip
I tried desperately to hold on,
Fought the wind from pulling it away
Kept it in my room where the ceiling could protect it from escaping into the vast empty.
No matter how hard I tried to keep it from leaving me
In the end the balloon would always slip away,
Standing, filling my car with fuel, following the red balloon as it trails off into the distance
I realize you never really can keep it from escaping.
If you keep it safely in your room, the balloon will only lose air - its essence.
I think now, balloons will always escape children’s hands.
Seeing it fly so high and quickly across the fading daylight sky
I smile thinking of  how the boy who used to hold on so tight
Now lets go.