Inner Kites
Layer by layer, I uncover my inner self
At every interval of confusion
A kite flies swiftly
Into the colorless sky of leisure.
Encouraged by the kites'
flux of flights
I probe my inner self
Find countless kites stuck there
Some in clusters, some a few.
In the moss of the inner self
Fingers become a source of light
A finger's worth of light
Shimmers existence
Kites Declare rebellion
The touch melted the ice of time
Awakened the inevitable yearning for liberation
The collective desire of kites evokes the pangs of labor within
One by one,
kites break free from the womb and begin to measure the sky
Even a million attempts cannot cut
the umbilical cord of any kite
The umbilical cord itself becomes the string
The soul begins to transform
into a gigantic wheel
in which the string, wrapped
with the curse of infinity like moneylender's interest, continues to weave
the rituals of the body
Every kite bound in the air is a haven for its own history and culture
The soul, saddened by the yearning for beauty, is searching for the canvas
in whose embrace
kites can reach their destination free and fearless
Thank you so much for reading. Have a great day 😊🙏 @vikbuddy
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