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Notes About The Poem

The Parental Kite

Parenting is like flying a kite…you do an awful lot of running around
using every breath you have to get your children up off the ground.

And you never feel prouder…remember how you grinned
The first time you saw your children fly…
the first time they caught the wind?

For you knew you’d helped them off the ground…
you helped them find their wings
and you knew, though they were up there flying,
you still controlled the string.

And when you realized they were good fliers.
when you finally had no doubt
Slowly…gently…lovingly…you let more and more string out.

And you kept letting string out…and they flew so high in the air
that you could barely see them…but you could feel they were there.

Until the day you understood just how high they’d flown
so you cut the string and smiled as you watched them fly off on their own.

Hoping that…wherever they go…in whatever they may do
every now and the the winds…will carry them back to you.

Hoping they know whatever joys or heartaches their life up there will bring
you will always be down here…
and you will always have more string.

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