kite
Watching a kite flying in one sunny noon's sky,
I remember the time I flew a kite a boy lent me
one late afternoon when I was little.
As I grinned at that freely-gliding kite,
it felt like I never wanted to give its string back to the boy who stood beside me.
"Fly higher, Kite! Don't you fall off just yet!" so I thought.
A soaring kite takes its flier's own hopes way up high, up and away.
"How high will it fly?"
"How long will the string hold?"
I wonder how it feels to be a kite flying that high.
Though I should gradually lower my body down
and eventually hit the ground sometime later,
I think there's nothing in the world would compare
the joy of one second being able to nearly touch the clouds up there.
"Hold on, Kid! Don't let go of me just yet!" so I'd shout.
A soaring kite takes its own dreams way up high, up and away.
"How high will I fly?"
"How long will the string hold?"
It was getting dark and I heard my mom called.
I gave back the string and left that boy whose name I cannot remember.
Watching a kite flying in one afternoon's sky,
I realize I've forgot that boy's face too.
Thanks to him, I noticed the beauty of a flying kite.
I understand that every play has to end somehow,
but before then I wish I already got you by my side to look up at the sky together.
"Wait for me, Dear! I'll come to you!" so I sing.
A soaring kite takes my gaze way up high, up and away.
"How far can I go?"
"How long will you hold on?"
A lot taller now, but I'm still that kid flying a kite.
I'm sending my hopes on a journey to the heights my fingertips still cannot reach.
The colors faded now, but it's still the kite I once flew.
It's carrying its dreams into the vast blueness my both arms still cannot embrace.
I remember the time I flew a kite a boy lent me
one late afternoon when I was little.
As I grinned at that freely-gliding kite,
it felt like I never wanted to give its string back to the boy who stood beside me.
"Fly higher, Kite! Don't you fall off just yet!" so I thought.
A soaring kite takes its flier's own hopes way up high, up and away.
"How high will it fly?"
"How long will the string hold?"
I wonder how it feels to be a kite flying that high.
Though I should gradually lower my body down
and eventually hit the ground sometime later,
I think there's nothing in the world would compare
the joy of one second being able to nearly touch the clouds up there.
"Hold on, Kid! Don't let go of me just yet!" so I'd shout.
A soaring kite takes its own dreams way up high, up and away.
"How high will I fly?"
"How long will the string hold?"
It was getting dark and I heard my mom called.
I gave back the string and left that boy whose name I cannot remember.
Watching a kite flying in one afternoon's sky,
I realize I've forgot that boy's face too.
Thanks to him, I noticed the beauty of a flying kite.
I understand that every play has to end somehow,
but before then I wish I already got you by my side to look up at the sky together.
"Wait for me, Dear! I'll come to you!" so I sing.
A soaring kite takes my gaze way up high, up and away.
"How far can I go?"
"How long will you hold on?"
A lot taller now, but I'm still that kid flying a kite.
I'm sending my hopes on a journey to the heights my fingertips still cannot reach.
The colors faded now, but it's still the kite I once flew.
It's carrying its dreams into the vast blueness my both arms still cannot embrace.