With bright colors large against the blue

It only works because there's nothing in it

this hole in the sky that lifts you up
past comfort
forces you to see
how small you are in the world
but not quite high enough to
understand
how small the world is
beyond the land

A silken cup of air inverted
above a fire
A basket full of your life and
bags of sand
all held together in
Twisted strands that cross the crest
and somehow form the bones
that shape the air and carry all the rest.

You rise, and don't quite know
where you will go
float beyond the reach of trees
and trust the wind

Listen: trust the wind
does that sound wise?
But still you rise
and hope for forward thrust.

Someone below
chases along,
disturbs the road no more
than a finger drawn along an arm

She follows the fleeing ball of air
She cannot see you
but believes you are still there.
You both know
there really is no
other way home.

(still working on it)