Kites
The string tingles and jumps and bites in your hand. It pulls tight, and your heart soars, knowing, connecting, living, breathing. You feed out string bit by bit, hoping against hope that the fickle wind will keep blowing. You hold your breath as you watch; and your hands, like two birds, flit before you in their rhythmic dance; and yard by yard the string leaves and stretches and smiles. And you smile, too. Because the worst is over. You fling your heart upwards to the end of the string, and as the kite spreads its wings and flies, you, too, cast off your cares and fly for one moment. After, your soul will quietly await its release once more and it reminds you every night of your freedom of a moment until the next time a fair wind blows, and it heaves a sigh of relief and anticipation...
