The Life Of A Ballon
In life we drift
Like the fish made for the water, but he can’t handle the current
We drift against our own will or God’s will
Away from our yearnings
Like the ballon carelessly caressed by the child
Nothing tethers me
I drift
Upon my own accord
I rise
Unbeknownst that my rise will end in my death
POP!
“We are never able to do anything in quite the way we want to do it. No single experience, however great, is quite able to represent us adequately. ”
