Flying in a Gas Balloon

Flying in a gas balloon-

At first, there was freshness,
of the whistling spring gale,
with it came beauty,
in the miniscule details.
The fluttering in the stomach,
of a million butterflies,
the cosiness of a shell,
the vastness of the skies,
The hope of things to come,
the confidence in the flight,
Dreams and togetherness,
the only things in sight.

Then the blurring of senses,
the timelessness of time,
the weight of extra baggage,
interfering with the climb.
Shoulders brush in discomfort,
space not enough any more,
what used to keep me cosy,
is now leaving me sore.
We threw the dreams over,
to make space for life,
Where passion overflowed once,
reason is now rife.

The gas balloon takes me higher each day,
for I know what to keep and what to throw.