The Kite

Yesterday, I had this kite that my father made.
It was big, rigid, and the leaf was thick
It could surely hold the strong drag of wind.
I was excited to let it fly away
Wishing the wind would never stop blowing.

My father gave me the signal before the moment came
that it flew several feet above…
Then higher and higher.
I was about to ask my father if I could consume
the whole thread he had given me.
But because of my excitement, I hadn’t asked
And did it in my own will.

I let the huge air lift my kite
I let it soared to eternity until the thread ran out.
I wanted it to fly and be seen by the airplanes above;
I wanted it to level with the clouds.

Gradually, the thread became too tight beyond my strength.
But I remembered my father said,
"This thread is the strongest of its kind."
Then my worries were eventually blown away.
Now, it's upon my hands.