Flying High

The joy of running with the wind in your hair,

Of endless circling with hands outstretched

Of feeling as if the wind picked you up

And flung you right into the clouds

Of dancing barefoot in puddles

Making the world shake with your laugh

Of knowing that there will be hands to

Catch you and guide you to the ground.

Knowing that I can fly high in the sky,

Yet my string is in safe hands

Connected to the ground , yet free.