I see a ribbon just outside my window,
Blue and shiny, staring back at me.
Its hollow eyes glare out from the treetop,
Its taut, tight knot firmly on the tree.

The balloon soars just above it,
Tied gently next to the breezy leaves of glee,
It smiles gently, looking to the ground
But all it really wants is to be free.

The ribbon, tormentor, stays strong,
Holds the dreamy sphere down to earth,
The balloon may be close to heaven,
But before he leaves he must cut his ties of birth.

And as I watch the balloon tug at his leash
Glare into the sun with bravery, not fear,
I wonder why he, of little mind and thought,
Could so easily soar into the sky so clear.

Then I look down, at the grass below,
Underneath this window-seat of mine
And see my little brother’s party
Covered with balloons of every line.

Fat ones, Skinny ones,
So mirthful, so gay,
Red ones, Purple Ones,
Like dancers, they sway.

And all of them reach to the sky,
Held to the ground by the ribbons below.
…Snip! The first ribbon is cut away,
what a sight to see that joyous bubble go!