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Paper Dreams

I remember the wind --
its phantom fingers
running through my hair,
black silk caressing my cheeks.
I remember the sky --
clouds chasing each other
across a sweeping canvass
of the deepest indigo.
I remember...laughter --
the tinkling clarity
of children's mirth,
yet untouched by despair.
I remember my kite --
bits of colored parchment and bamboo,
bound together by nothing but string,
rice paste and the faith in dreams.
I remember as it soared
buffetted by unseen hands,
an ungainly, misshapen bird,
marring heaven's blue expanse.
I remember the battle of wills
as the surging currents of the wind
tried to wrestle the paper sails
away from my untried hands.
But youthful stubborness and
the purest faith held it aloft,
though I've but anchored it,
with the slenderest of strings.
And the vanquished wind carried
the echoes of my laughter,
across rolling hills and verdant plains,
up to the sky to fuel my paper sails.
I remember still as my ageing eyes
tracks a kite's course across the heavens;
Or when an errant breeze tosses a string
of children's laughter within reach.
Remembering...I close my eyes --
and once more toss my paper bird
into the blue.

7 Jun 09

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dreams can sometimes haunt us even in our
wakeful moments, exposing their redundant
nature and, more importantly, that childlike
or childish nature in us longing for hOMe.

interesting use of 'canvass' there -- did you
mean to be punny? |34 is quite a stretch but
i like the exercise.

i dream about this piece being trimmed down
a bit but only you would know how.

i'll definitely remember this poem -- most
especially the 4th strophe -- for gawd knows
how long.

: )
 — fractalcore

Not too many people could write about flying a kite and make it sound so interesting...nicely done...
 — JKWeb

thanks for the comments :)  i miss open plains and flying kites...living in the city with all its tall buildings and electrical wires make that impossible  now :(  
 — cebukitty

I flew a Kite almost everyday as a kid in Brasil I really enjoyed reading this.
 — vida