Find the blue balloon.

                        Find it rising into a sky

                        the very same blue, a blue

                        that makes the blue balloon

                        hard to see, hard to find.

                        Let your mind

                        become a woman dressed in white—

                        old-fashioned, from long ago—

                        standing at the end of a path

                        with a basket in her hand.

                        Watch her stand

                        as though looking to give flowers

                        to the next lone traveler

                        who gently comes her way.

                        Say nothing.

                        Simply, step by step,

                        approach her open smile.

                        While you walk,

                        while you find her eyes,

                        remember that blue sky.

                        Why are you here at all?

                        Give your name,

                        the secret one a bad person

                        once told you not to share.

                        Dare accept

                        a blossom full and bright.

                        Light will lengthen

                        as the woman nods and says

                        her name, the one                   

                        you heard whispered

                        from the blue balloon.

                        Soon you and she

                        will both gaze up,

                        recite a poem,

                        and watch it climbing high.