“Kite Strings,” Ensign, June 1987, 27
When storms of life assail my heart and mind
Pray I could praise the wind and, too, the string.
What fool am I to chafe against the bind
As, gently tethered, day by day I wing.
Creation’s joy is rapture in the breeze.
Faith-filled, I heav’nward soar on folded knee.
Then, Amen’s echo gone, I so fear trees!
I must learn to seek Him constantly.
Impatient soul, I would rise to skies
Unfettered in my flight, sunlit sojourn.
Yet wisdom whispers on wind’s wings, “Be wise,
Kite-child of Mortal March, arise and learn:
Bequest triumphant—timeless laws divine
Secure thee, soaring evermore, still mine!”