My string is tangled, balled and mangled
Tied in knots from every angle
No spool to use and hard to tie
So long ago it used to fly
My kite my kite
My kite so high

I used to run against the moon
With kites above a lake of loons
We made a schooner in the sky
Their bills the keel, my kite the sail
My string the rope, the mast their tail
And as I watched, my bird ship fly
Into the sun above the sky

I lost it blinded, by the light
Through water eyes into the night
The loons came back, a thousand wings
Their music song a lake in spring
The bird ship gone, my kite ablaze
My string had vanished in the haze.

I see a wisp in the moonlit sky
Like first sight from a morning eye
The clouds came closer thin and slack
And at my feet in tangled black
My string My string
My string came back.

I threw my tangled ball of string
At crescent moon in early spring
With loons it flew toward new dawn light
A magic hand was formed in flight
Caught by the loons in feather hands
The knots untied on desert sands
And at my feet, my string did land

My thread was tangled, balled and mangled
Tied in knots from every angle
Unfurled above by feather hands
Above the foggy desert sands
I took my feathered string and ran
Ran toward the dawn
New kite new kite new kite in hand