A boy and his balloon
He walks, stumbles, stutters through the street,
Alone and small he travels among
The white and grey feathers flapping for food
In a world full of color and life
His companions are always there
He holds them tight as they might disperse
Still he holds them, a strong leader, grave
They keep to him as if tied with iron chain.
He sees the mountain, great and tall
with marble walls and roaring falls
with roosts for birds to wet their necks
and pools that shine with gold
The then goes past the mighty tree
With broad leaves and strong branches.
Taller than the mountain it seems
A true life-giver, majestic, and great
The way is fraught with trouble
Stone men stand in between
The hero and his destination
With flat heads and long arms
With swords and spears
That curl and twist in strange ways
Yet he defeats them, and pushes through.
He meets many characters on his way
The fearful dog that yaps and naps
The old man at his game
The businessman with much to do
And the teenagers with none
And as he trudges along his way,
All of these he passes by
Tired and weak by end of day
He stops and rises towards the sky.
