Carrier Kite The clouds are stepping stones. Pebbles skimming across a tranquil lake. The kite rides on the laughing breeze, Nothing but a tiny patchwork pocket on the vast tapestry of sky. A stained glass window in heaven. The wind roars and the kite is tossed like a multicolour snowflake through the air. Loosen the string: the kite soars; a bird freed from its cage. A leaf spinning on the autumn breeze. It carries a message to the skies: I can fly. Imagine your heart soaring with the height. Imagine your hopes riding On its back. Higher, higher, higher. The world falls away like doubt. The sky is an empty page, Waiting for the kite to write poetry with its tail. There is a lull and the kite swoops down like a wave onto a caramel beach. The flight is over. Now the kite must wait - until the time is right. Until it can soar again. The wind is its master.