Soars to the sky upon wind-lifted wings,
While bound to the earth with unbounded glee,
Ari's eyes dance, sparkling to the beat-
Cadence Call of Kite riding rimpling winds.
"It pulls on me, Papa, just pulls away!"
"She talks to you, Honey, speaks through her string.
Listen with your hands, and follow her lead;
Pas de deux with her, let out, reel back in."
Creative tension plays prettily here
Through my granddaughter's hands; apt metaphor
For the ongoing dance dialectic
Daily dealt through, around, within our lives.
In ambitions we soar, or crash back down,
Yet straining upward, answering God's Call!
