Against a uniform grey sky, a balloon
unexpected in its redness.
An escapee from a party perhaps,
it seems to float with a purpose
not governed by the air at all
but as if steering a course
to where all such balloons must gather.
Mesmerised, you watch it for a while
until height and distance make it smaller,
Yet somewhere else, other eyes cast skyward
see the balloon for the first time
and contemplate its origins
and the purpose of its journey.
Perhaps there is a secret place somewhere,
where all free balloons meet,
and through the collective of their vibrant skins
they cast an arch of multi-coloured light
radiant across uniformly grey skies.
Yes, this is a fable about balloons, but it’s also a poem about those all-too-rare people who can truly make a positive difference in the world – and boy! – do we need more of those right now!
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