A season begins with traditional delight
Pull the string & it takes the flight
In different direction when winds blow
Turning & twisting all of them follow
Right, left, up & down with air
In various colors, together they pair
Like a battlefield in the high sky
And many compete to fight & fly
As strings cross to cut each other
Kites rise & fall in breezy weather
Symbol of confidence reaching such height
To disappear in clouds till others loose sight
Sometimes its wild, sometimes its steady
When one falls, other one is ready
A festival where no one bends
Hope strives, excitement never ends
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