The Kite

THE KITE



The string of life, slipping away

Every moment from my hands

The spool revolves, unwinding only

I look at the sky, to see the kite of my soul

In dismay, I find her descending haphazardly

Spool is revolving, little is the string left on it

I must correct the path of my kite, before it is too late

I must direct the kite upward, to the soaring skies of nobility

To the soaring skies of peace, to the soaring skies of bliss

I must wake up, I must act, before it is too late

Lest the kite fall on ground  and trapped in the mire of evil

No time left to regret for the length of string unwound

No time to regret for the low altitude to which kite has come

Act, act, act! I must act before it is too late

Lest the soaring skies of bliss become dream

A dream of a kite trapped in mire, ever drowning

The kite wants ascend, it is destined to ascend, it is made to ascend

But I forget it in the folly of my lust and become careless, Causing it’s fall

Revolution of spool is not in my hands, so is losing of string

But the almighty has bestowed upon me the control of kite’s path

But I forget and it falls.

Wake up before it is too late, act before it is too late

The last unwinding of string on the spool is still to come

Act now, pain your fingers and make the kite ascend

Move her to her destiny, the creator awaits



By – Nakshatra singh