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Little Box Kite

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I once had a wonderful box kite so durable and strong,
steady and true at the end of my line I could fly her all day long.
My heart soared as I watched her fly near the clouds in the sky above,
in her presence I saw beauty and grace and faith and hope and love.

Box kites are steady, not easily flipped like a flat kite with tail and string,
to see one fly so graceful and true is really a wonderful thing.
With a mind of her own she flew far above all the other kites in the air
as all the other kites darted and twisted in the spaces they had to share.

One day as other kites fought and strained to keep themselves off the ground,
my precious box kite flew higher and higher, no struggle, no fight, no sound.
To my amazement I ran out of string but felt that she could go more
so I asked a fellow kite-man nearby to hurry off to the store.

He came back with spools, I asked why so many surely one would be enough
he answered with a fat one as round as any, but the wind is high and the sky is rough.
To the end of that line she easily climbed and again I found my line short,
to my friend I asked, should I add another? Yes here’s one more came his report.

At the end of that line a crowd stood amazed as my line was steady and still,
with troubles and tempests so high above it was as if she had her own will.
Now the wind they say is what makes a kite fly, it’s adversity that makes one sound,
but the kite-man knows that his love won’t fly unless it’s held close to the ground.

Spool after spool to help her fly high so she could be true and free
and smaller and smaller she shrank in the sky until almost no one could see.
Firm and taught I pulled on the line as my wonderful kite climbed and listed
until a neighboring kite darting dangerously close caught my line all knotted and twisted.

I could feel my line falling but I couldn’t see just where my precious kite was,
so I frantically pulled to get my love back, I couldn’t lose her simply because…
I love her.

Yard after yard I pulled my line back to save my wonderful prize,
but my beauty was falling and terror set in as my love was lost to the sky’s .
Now years have passed slowly and sadly it seems, may be twenty or thirty or more,
and still I regret sending my friend for more line, down the street to the corner store.

So hold loosely your precious treasure and don’t let her out of your sight,
and keep her grounded with patience and love which is truly what gives her, her flight.
And keep her where you can see her, where your love and help can abound,
for the joy that she brings is a wonderful thing and if lost she may never be found.

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