The wind would chase the kite around
Like a prize its dying to have
Like magic, they lifted off the ground
Stamping the sky a piece of passionate red
They waltz with gales
flit through turbulence
claiming the sky their dance floor
The clouds were merely the furnishing and
the hanging sun sparked through the kite like the split prismatic beams from the chandelier crystals
Shining upon the two slow dancers
However, the wind was never meant to stay forever.
The moment the kite runs back to the wind
the chase is over
The caberet will end
The kite will fall
The spine will break
The sail will tear
He will crash
But the kite will soar again with the next wind even though nothing ever changes
With each crash tearing a bigger hole
Somedays he wonders when he will stop flying
YOU ARE READING
The Way Trees Wait For Spring
PoesiaWelcome to The Way Trees Wait For Spring Breathe between your tears and laughters Live through your lessons and memories Enjoy this short temporal moment of a human life
