The Creator's Kite

My Creator made me with great love,

He took out a colorful paper,

And cut it very gently with soft hands,

To give it a very attractive shape.

Still it was a very delicate piece,

And not very fit to venture out,

My Creator knew it so well,

He made my skeleton with sticks.

To make my body firm, glued it hard,

Now I was all ready to soar high,

Into the heart of the great sky,

My Creator then bade me goodbye.

Soon I reached an alien's home,

One end of string on my body,

And the other was in his hands,

He made me dance up and down.

Does my Creator remember me ?

I think He is too busy in His chores,

To create His awesome wares,

And to sell them in open bazaars.

I too have forgotten Him so fast,

What use now is to long for ?

One who is the least bothered,

The string puller is now my savior.

I move up high on the clouds,

Sometime my heart beats so fast,

When the string is let loose by him,

But the string puller is very artful.

He saves me from so many falls,

He so deftly sends me up and high,

and his string seems very strong,

I find my life so safe in his hands.

Yet my life is full of uncertainties,

This makes me really very sad,

Any day can be the last in my life,

When the string'll be loosened away.

And the winds will take me too far,

I'll be dropped onto the trees,

Struggling to wriggle out myself,

But to be entangled tight and wild.

Silent in the company of leaves,

Watching the birds day and night,

I think of the winds and the sky,

I think of flying low and so high.

Why did the string puller leave me ?

Why did Creator make me so weak ?

I wanted to fly on my own free will,

Without the string and the winds.

I never thought of designs and ways,

Of my Creator and about the perils,

He loved the play only this way,

Why the Creator conceived me so ?

Wonder He is still ever engrossed,

To curve out things many mortal,

That would soar sometimes so high,

Till the string is strongly pulled in !

© Harish Mamgain