Letting Go.

Holding fast to the string of a kite

Keeps it safely tethered -

Anchored to the here and now.

Let out a little of the line and

Watch as the wind buffets it

This way and that;

Feel the insistent upward tug

In your tightened grip.

Afraid to lose control,

You pull the strings to make it dance

In dizzy circles round your head -

Swooping and swallowing

The sky.

It is fear that has your fingers

Stiff and swollen with the effort

Of holding on until at last you

Let it fly.

Release is sweet - watching as it

Gains momentum of its own

Tumbling away - loose and lost

To fate.

While you, at last, have use

Of both your hands.