Flying High

He looked at the kites, far up in the sky

Kites of all hues and shapes were on show

After all, it was the kite season of Western India!



People everywhere in open spaces, rooftops, gulleys

Adults and children alike, revelling in the fun, excitement

For there is nothing like flying a lovely kite

As they soar up in the sky, almost as if

It is the flyer, who is on top of the world!



He recalled his own time of flying

Of flying kites with their unique tail and body type

Then, as a child he believed he would always soar high

Up above, like the colourful joyful kites

That was prior, till childhood gave way

to youthhood and middle age

and now, soaring was a distant dream!



A dream that had turned sour with

Too many people telling him what’s not possible

Advising to quit day- dreaming and come back to earth!

And he felt like a broken kite, weak and defeated



Ah, if only he could go back to those days

Full of confidence, zeal and drive with belief

That anything was possible; that soaring high was natural

If the kites could do it, you could too! 

NB: This poem was composed for participating in the monthly contest of Million Muse Facebook Group. I received a certificate for the effort.