The Kite (In Tribute To Tagore's 'where The Mind Is Without Fear') Poem by SANJAY KUMAR SINGH

In the quiet evening sky,
It glided gracefully high,
In silver and gold hue,
As the day passed through.

It rested solemn and alone,
Coursing with birds flying home,
Swaying with the wind, yet adrift
On perils and songs its very own.

The night would come soon,
And onwards would sail the moon
In the star spangled sky,
But still the kite surges high.

Drowsy dreams open their eye,
Incandescent beautiful in night sky,
Embracing the kite in hallow fiery,
Clouds crescending in night starry.