Reach for the Light


A Fanciful Kite

Among faraway cotton wisps,

Flits a quad-coloured bird.

Blundering and capering and with the hand spurred;

Onwards and upwards, ever higher, ever faster

A flick and a flutter,

The Eagles’ envy, at my bedazzled form,

Compared courteously to the proud Phoenix,

My body broidered, blissful and bestirred

A friend of Falcons, the cormorants’ companion,

Merrily whirling in whimsical twists;

Immovably affixed to a wrist.

O what a joy to exist,

To fly and persist regardless of tethers

Flourishing flamboyant frozen feathers.

The joy it wanes, the string tugs backward.

It is then I think, of you – O Pinnochio,

Your struggle becomes mine,

I become the bluebird, confined.

Oh, Oh, If only I truly were,

of the feathered creatures divine.

I just could stay fluttering, chasing, rippling, pulsating

The tenement of me: my form, my figure, my anatomy

Dedicated solely to the realms above,

To the fathomless sapphire Sky,

That empyrean domain, where; long to be

Creatures, near and far.

That long-held fascination of man,

O to be in the sky, I would indeed

concede my form, even enthusiastically

Transmigrate to a lowly dove.

I remain, sadly, ever a construction,

Of the hands of man.

Fated to be ever bound to a piece of string

my shackles, my imperfect, lifeless form,

Never to be touched with the spark,

my lament, sorrow overflowing

That magic divine – never kissing my lifeless lips.

/Yet, I pray to the King of Kings,

The Creator and the Destroyer of worlds,

Bind my worthless paper figure

Breathe into me; a breath of life,

So that I may, saunter among the clouds;

Feel the rain, on my skin, freely unfurled

Without wilting, among the wildlife.

Give to me what you gave to man!

No… yet less I ask, no power do I desire

No wealth, no love, no Empire

Just a free rein,

through that most wondrous of Your creations;

That azure canvas, sometimes dark, sometimes light

Studded with diamonds sometimes

and others, awash in silk-bright colours.

No castles do I wish,

No fame, no beauty, no kiss

Just a casing of flesh,

with a few feathers, affixed.

I do not promise to obey,

For I know not how to read

And the wisdom of man is beyond me,

Your commands, I cannot ken

Still, I guarantee my prayer and praise

From Dawn to Dusk I wilt worship thee

amongst the nimbus of cumuli,

In the darkness, amongst my starry companions,

I wilt worship thee,

In the hollows of the verdant woods

I wilt worship thee,

O free me, o free me, your Majesty

This cage of twigs and paper

And the palm of this naive boy

It pains me to be tugged down

Then cast aside, like so many shredded dreams

My time among the clouds forgotten

Discarded for my younger brothers,

Who know not yet their fate

All the swooping joy, soaring in the hands of children;

Only to be brought down to earth forevermore.

I beg, I pray, I plead

O these petty words may You heed

And forgive the Sin of greed.

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