Kite Strings

By C. Diane Quigley

When storms of life assail my heart and mind

Pray I could praise the wind and, too, the string.

What fool am I to chafe against the bind

As, gently tethered, day by day I wing.

Creation’s joy is rapture in the breeze.

Faith-filled, I heav’nward soar on folded knee.

Then, Amen’s echo gone, I so fear trees!

I must learn to seek Him constantly.

Impatient soul, I would rise to skies

Unfettered in my flight, sunlit sojourn.

Yet wisdom whispers on wind’s wings, “Be wise,

Kite-child of Mortal March, arise and learn:

Bequest triumphant—timeless laws divine

Secure thee, soaring evermore, still mine!”