Little light

Something was shining in the tree,
Gleaming in the sun.
It wriggled with such might
that I stopped to look.
Though it was snared on the limbs, 
I could still make out its round body,
A balloon.
It was tucked back into the woods
And on my skis,
It seemed a long walk to the tree
But a small light flickered,
Not from the gleaming balloon,
but from inside of me.
It said,
Go after it,
Unclip your boots,
and set aside your poles.
That was what I found myself doing,
Trudging off of the trail,
Heal-toeing my way in my boots.
As I came closer
I could see writing on the balloon.
Reaching up,
I pulled it from its branch.
Like plucking a cereal box from the shelf,
It flapped in my hand.
The wind wanted it back,
But I flattened the plastic bird in my palm.
25th Anniversary!
The latex letters boasted in metallic silver.
I folded the balloon inside my palm,
Making my way back to the trail.
It felt good to free the plastic from the tree
And the tree from the plastic
For that is what I am grateful for,
The little light inside of us,
Sprinkled with motivation and humanity,
Taking reins of our actions,
Helping us to help each other,
And our community,
And our world.
I love you, little light of change.
Please don't ever go out.