Balloons, Balloons, Balloons
Everywhere.
Filling the sky of all sizes and all colors.
Punctuating the sky-as if broken by a puff of smoke
Arising from a little child's string.
Releasing His balloon above.
As if a prayer spoken to the heavens.
A message tied to each one
attached to a string
in an attempt to reach a loved and lonely one from afar.
Looking out on the clear blue sky
on 09-11-01,
looking back on a cloudy and rainy day
not knowing what to do or say.
May the balloons of hope fill the sky.
May they march down by Macy's on the the thanksgiving day Parade.
armed by dozens of men.
Or maybe by words spoken to one another on pages of laughter or somber reflection
Oh, how can it be ...
six years already.
Remembrances must go on.
Let the air fill these graceful vessels.
inflating them with hope yet sagging with age.
Of some that fly away when tied loosely
and some that stay on the ground.
And for the thankfulness that life begins
not just at conception
but at gratefulness of being alive and well
in a world that has changed forever.
Happy 11th Birthday Little Chick
7 years ago
1 comment:
good prose scott
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