One Less Red Balloon

Huff. Huff. And blow out. Repeat.

The air transfers from one balloon to another. The balloon stretches. It gets larger and larger. The elasticity is almost at its full potential. The air is hostage inside. The red color looks almost pink near the top. The man ties the balloon off at the bottom and attaches the string. The child grabs for the string eagerly. A band marches by.

John ties the string around the child's right wrist. A slipknot should do it. The line is taught as the air mass bounces above in the air. The child sings out in glee. John smiles widely and the parade continues.

The child becomes anxious. She starts playing with the knot around her wrist. The politicians stride through. The knot becomes loose and the balloon reaches upward. The child does the same as the thread snakes out of her grasp.

Against the bright blue sky, the red balloon disappears from her beady sight. As it rises above the millions in the city square, the pressure around it increases. The air needs to escape. It cannot continue this way anymore. The elasticity the air once pushed out is not giving way. The insides are wet with moisture. The outsides are cool with temperature. The pressure continues to build. The balloon rises. The string follows. The child reaches.

PoP!

The balloon rains down on the crowd. The children pick up the pieces off the roadway and sidewalks. They pull and stretch their pieces and then toss them back on the walk home. The adults shake their heads of the litter and continue on their way also. She collects the pieces she can. If she can get enough of them, she can piece the balloon back together. Right?

John sees her dismay and buys her a new balloon. This time it isn't red. She hopes she can hold onto it this time! Looking up she misses her red balloon. The blue sky isn't the same.

Soaking up the moonlight

Yesterday I drove to New Hampshire. Driving on 95 I always think of you. Same when I get off the highway there. Cat Country was playing and driving mode set in.

Your song came on and before the lyrics broke through the speakers, tears fell. Five months later, I cannot fathom your absence. I miss you, your presence, your radiating smile, your wave passing down the road.

Its funny. I heard the song the other day too. I was on my way to work. Caught me completely off guard. Tears welled up, my throat closed - as it does now. The song plays for a reason. It plays for you.

In the meantime, my own life has not been looking up. I've given thought more & more to where you were. How dark did it get for you? Was there no more moonlight left? You have been constantly on my mind.

A seaside session with a close friend brought it home when she shared the same thoughts. The first notes hit the radio waves and I smiled. Shook my head. Missed you more than ever. It's the midst of summer and you're gone - somehow, someway, somewhere.

The summer nights are clear and bright. The moon shines above traveling through its phases. A dark night poses a new moon and no guidance is given through the darkness. We are most alone on these nights. I know the moon is still orbiting, but the light is unseen. Comfort determines to carry us through.

The next nights are filled with slivers of the waxing light. With each passing night, the moon shines brighter. We are more and more thankful for its direction in the dark. The stars around the moon glisten in glory.

A full moon illuminates my pitch black night. I can see the paths through the woods and I can find the stream. No matter where I am among the trees, I feel the moonlight on my shoulder.

As the paths are clearing, and we walk forward with merit, the moon slides into the waning pieces. In a few days time, we will be strong and the light will disappear. Until next time...
When I look up at the sky tonight I will see you in the moonlight, radiating down on us and keeping us strong in our darkest hours.

From dusk to dawn From full to new You're never really gone Let the moonlight through