Smell The Kite

No one caps a capsized clan
or robes a sinking tribe
You make waves
to pave way
for breath
No one adds a broken bead
to praise the rising race
You create ways
to make waves
for stars
Smell the kites for take
Stake your kite in time
Pastime be pastime
Costume be costume
When the bard sings up
your day has just begun
Pray arise


It is trite, isn't it, to say you must gun for ya goal with single-minded can-do verve? But we do. Indeed we must.

This side of the globe compels us to. Yes. Too much ratting before racing, making the proverbial rat-race a compelling case-study today. It will compound in the days ahead. Bet.

My take? Rank the stakes. Cool temper, and work. Bloody hard. Period.