Floating

Floating
Six feet off the ground
Tethered by ribbon
And bobbing around,
The sun reflects
Like a flashbulb light
Each time the wind
Blows in just right.
The green grass is vibrant
And brilliantly bright
Dimmed only by the changing sky
A truly wondrous sight.
Nearby stands a little man
With a small and sticky hand
Fingers play gently on the string
Tugging on the anxious thing.
Tomorrow surely the balloon shall burst,
But oh to touch the sky first...
But to be released too soon,
He'll reach the sun before noon
Before the stars are glowing,
He'll fall to the earth again,
Without have knowing
The breathtaking canvas the night will be
Fear crouches in the thought of being free,
For it could be the end of everything.
Release him, an adventure he will find
Leaving the ground and the world behind
But the sorrow
Is that tomorrow
He will be no more
And he'll wonder what he did it for.
Was the grass not vibrant?
Was the hand not warm?
Would it have been so bad,
To deflate and lose his form,
If only to have another day
To be floating
Six feet of the ground
And eventually start
A soft,slow trip down?
And so the question begs the balloon
As it has it has begged others before it
Do you low ride this life
Or do you soar it?
Appreciate what you've been given,
Or keep on moving, keep on living..
Keep tugging on a thin cut ribbon,
Holding on to the choices
That we've been given.