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
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