Balloons

Balloons

We're all balloons, filled full with helium, tied tight with string.
Floating up high with the clouds in the sky,
flying freely with the cumulonimbus and avoiding
the pointy tips of skyscrapers.
Companions of the stars and the moon,
gossipers with the Sun.
                                         We think we know it all.
At least we probably do.
Age cannot catch us, she is too slow,
and invincible we float on,
so full of hot air,
                            and dreams.

And then one by one, my friends start falling
one by one, falling out of heaven,
their strings entangled in tiny knots, weighing
them down. They spin and dance and stall,
then plummet.
                          First Juliet, then George, then Wilson and Greg,
Peter fell, Scott fell, then Annie and Ted.

One by one, until you and I were all that were left,
but there many a cloud between us
and you drifted down south,
the wind blew you away,
tied to a string of books, scales and a stethoscope.

Then one by one, 'til I'm the only one alone up there,
but I didn't care.
                             I'm still free
though now old with less air,
to roam about the Earth, being blown, being blown
so aimlessly. Spectator to the passings and joinings,
to the mortarboards and gowns and the exchange of rings.
But, I don't care,
I'm not tied down. I am free.
The world is my cage,
                                      and I shall float around
her aimlessly.