Kites

Today I will be doing last minute things to get ready for Mud Mama's arrival ...moving dog pillows out and cribs in to my den ... setting up everything so that I can use the laptop instead of the desktop ... buying groceries ... making sure the sleds are up by the car for them to use if they arrive at 3 a.m. as expected ...

I will deliver the cards and tiny gifts to my neighbours ... Christmas tree ornaments I made of pottery ...

But I also want to make the next tea cozy ... the second in the poetry series ... it will be a colourful kite on a pale mauve background ... I will post a photo when it is ready ... it will be a Christmas gift for a tea drinking friend.

This is the Leonard Cohen poem that will be included:

A Kite is a Victim

A kite is a victim you are sure of.
You love it because it pulls
gentle enough to call you master,
strong enough to call you fool;
because it lives
like a desperate trained falcon
in the high sweet air,
and you can always haul it down
to tame it in your drawer.

A kite is a fish you have already caught
in a pool where no fish come,
so you play him carefully and long,
and hope he won't give up,
or the wind die down.

A kite is the last poem you've written,
so you give it to the wind,
but you don't let it go
until someone finds you
something else to do.

A kite is a contract of glory
that must be made with the sun,
so you make friends with the field
the river and the wind,
then you pray the whole cold night before,
under the travelling cordless moon,
to make you worthy and lyric and pure.


I also like these two:

March by May Richstone
A boy with a kite
In windy weather
Tying the earth
And sky together.

... and this one by Emily, a grade one pupil working with the word "kite" ...

Kites fly high in the beautiful sky.
Ice cold kites freeze in the wind.
Twinkling kites swerve in the wind.
Ends of kites are pointy.
Swiveling kites surfing in the sky.