Friday, March 22, 2013

The Box Kite

I scribbled lines




Drawing lines.

What did I draw?
I wanted a symbol.

Something that was mine.

When I drew it, I would know this is what I mean.

Like when I trace a circle in my palm

when I open my hand in prayer.

Symbols speak where there are no words

when words are tired

of saying the same thing.

I looked at my drawing

A kite.

It looked like a kite

I added some extra lines

A box kite flying in the sky

smiling down at me

a structure solid

floating lightly

I smile back; my heart flies, too.

Up it flies.

the string pulls tight

the string goes slack


It won't stay here.

but my kite flies still

a solid structure

floating lightly

I smile back, I watch it fly away.

And I still smile.

I doodle my kite

Upon my paper

And smile remembering.

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