The harvest blossoms
With the rains,
Till the floods arrive

The winter chill is sweet
When the snow is new
Till life stands still

The fish is in plenty
When the skies are clear
Unto the Tempest

So, the kites fly higher
When The winds get strong
Till they are torn !

Why is this bound
I see YOU play
A measure to it
Tis not forever around !

(like everything in the first 3 paras the kites fly higher , offer all the resistance they possibly can and step up higher automatically in the process, but get torn apart and fall down ultimately, YOU is nature or also may be someone putting a restrictions and a measure,casting its bounds.It is about seeing a measure to the things, a measure to love,with love on conditions,not from deep within-having its limits – and that not being cherished well !)

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