A balloon drifts away in
the sky and somewhere a child is crying. That’s the old saying anyway. Higher
and higher it goes up into the sky. What does this represent? Life drifting
away from us perhaps, our remaining time getting smaller and smaller; the sand
slipping through the hourglass? Or is it friends who we were so close to at one
time drifting away from us as we forge our own lives; people that we thought
would be forever close who are now far, far away? Or do we marvel at the
freedom of the balloon floating across the sky, untethered and just drifting at
the whim of the winds? Now we can no longer see the balloon. It is gone from
our vision. We have only our memories left and even our memories will evaporate
like April’s snow on the sidewalk.
