A kite I am, stuck in a tree,
Waiting for a gust to set me free.
I wish to soar in the blue skies,
I wish to feel the whish of my wings.

The branch of the tree grips me hard. Struggling, despairing, praying,
I wriggle to set myself free.
A battle of wills we are in,
That tree and me, the flimsy kite.

Strong I am, faith I have,
For as I struggle, I know
That gust of wind is nearing.
The one that will gently free me,
nudging me out of that iron grip.

So give up, I don’t, flimsy as I am.
Stronger is my will, I am braver,
The tree that is life,
the kite that is me.

A battle of wills we are in,
a battle that is nearing its end.
For I can hear the wind become louder,
And I whisper, Life, I have won.
Life, I am free.