I am flying my kite, arouse my heart to higher heights.
My isosceles triangular thought, and circular rotating life, tail balancing of past memories and lost ideas in flight....with the strong wind of consciousness, I am flying my kite.
I've seen other kite's fly in others, they twirl and spin like mine.
Kites are unpredictable, yet I know can't fly beyond that
string of concerns,
that single line.
Hear my kites tender fragile paper flutter, almost tear; see my kites color, mostly green and some of blue, a touch of red with a purple hue.
It took so long to get it up, running and running breathless sweat, hoping and trying and yet and yet.
Can my kite fly me? Is it something it can do? Has it in this short verse flown you?
I am flying my kite, arouse us to
Gentle wind pushes it around to the sun behind, for a moment or so I am flying blind.
I am flying my kite.
"Imagination is the highest kite one can fly."
--- Lauren Bacall