Chasing kites, through the bites
Up a hill, down a feel
Through the pine, till we blind
Chasing kites, however it bites
We are all kids chasing kite after kite, with our undivided focus on that one kite.
The snake may bites, the pebbles may trip, but nevertheless the journey must go.
Going up the hill, against all the wise sayings and the oh-most-obvious,
where the heart goes, and the mind knows nothing of.
Up up on a hill, taking our leap of faith.
Some catch the kite and go home,
and some lose their balance and down a feel.
To the blues and tears, the marrows and bone.
Walking through the pine forest, glazed by the sunlight and morning dew.
Blindly walking, but not that blind.
That, or this, or those, or most.
However it bites, we all chase our kite.