Ways to Fly
I saw the balloons, pink, white and red, tied up to the clean floor, shivering, restless, and looked in awe at their airy mind My hands itched to set them loose, waiting to watch them fade away in a far beyond that no one knows These days I'm learning to fly, sometimes I use my hands, sometimes my feet, sometimes old brooms, and sometimes easy things like magical balloons Using your feet is difficult, they are taught to be grounded, to never lose a beat, the hands require force, but the flight is fast, and you end up higher as you go, a broom is most efficient, but requires great skill, like a motorbike you kick, and like a swimmer, you push it all behind But magical balloons are like bubbles that shine they take you to places you'd never attempt to go, places unseen, of vast mysteries and like a child you soar, far away from the sky, far away from the trees, into the stars, into a beautiful dream I believe we can do anything we imagine, and flying doesn't require a degree