Hot Air Balloon Ride

Weightless, we lift up like a bubble, softly, smoothly, so seamlessly that motion could go unnoticed with closed eyes. Wide awake, grass blades fade into one asymmetrical green block. Evergreen tree tops sway as a forest wave and we wave like celebrities at the intricacies below. Pale yellow hay aligns these pristine green patches as soundless tractors gather summer's last harvests. A gray pavement maze of smoke puffing industrial buildings and clustered suburbs texture a separate scene like game board houses, roofs in muted tones. Silent vehicles seem as child's toys, gliding like our imaginations and the easy lift of hot air's gauge as we drift higher, hovering at the skyline's level to reach distant cities with our awestruck eyes. The Space Needle is spotted afresh against azure air and Lake Washington is seen in its entirety, teeny boats assail like baby ducks welcoming these guests as a postcard homebound. Mountains' shadow crevices revel an artist's best rendition, depth unspeakable. Like giants we seem, overlooking a make believe world that we could overtake. Wicker basket thigh high at the opening, one assertive lean could be one's demise. How fragile are our mighty lives. We drift downward as seamlessly and controlled as the flaming whoosh between this manmade nylon fabric, woven like a rainbow's reach for gold, that holds our heedlessly trusting beings as magically as the land of Oz. Now a speck so small, landing amongst the level open field, we yield our hearts to the creator of it all. 11-13-2020 What Have You Kicked Off On Your Bucket List Poetry Contest Sponsor: Chantelle Anne Cooke