The Kite

And now for something different. 

This is a prayer/poem for all followers of Jesus, but especially for us leaders who are in a hurry to run fast and far.

The Kite

Here in the closet, discarded and still,

I am the kite of winterkill.

Wanting no more but currents to sail,

Buried in tangles of string and tail.

But oh! Come the day when the April wind

Is high, the door opens and light screams in.

Yanked from my corner and scattering dust,

My arms stretched taut to catch each gust;

Then out to the lawn with the sun on my skin,

Dragged through the grass ‘til suddenly wind

Steals my breath and the ground spreads below.

I am free! I am free! Please let the string go!

But he being wiser, holds fast to the strand

While I slowly yield to the tug of his hand.

Soaring and weaving and dancing on light,

Here I belong. I am the kite.

(Can dry bones live? Please tell me again;

Thou knowest, O Lord, for You give the wind.)

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