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Stonepoem.com

May 10, 2005 - A poem about Cosmicity

Kites.

Oh,
see the high ones play
like red and blue inkspots
in the willowing sky.
There. See them lifting
way above the over-hang
that influences wind
of little hopes like ours.
We try so hard to launch
above the shoulders
of windless days.
But do we feel
despair below the frame?
Do we know
the twisted strings
of innocence and crash?
No! Such earthly bindings
mean nothing to us,
who stay determined.
Soon, we WILL
fly!

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