A terrace, and a takeoff...

 My eager feet scampered up the steps and onto the terrace...ears perked up at the lazy call of a jungle crow. Cloaked in humidity, it sounded muffled, yet somehow louder. A cluster of cumulus clouds was stilled into a bolted forward position, feigning the promise of coolness to the hot start of the day. My eyes took in the vast expanse of horizon, limned with coconut and palm trees. Everything was breathing: a nurtured, deliberate indolence kept Nature alive. 

Since an unwarranted cacophony of birds accompany the brahminy kites, this mid morning quietness should have translated into their absence. But no. There they were, beyond the lengthening and shutting off of shadows. The two of them, slowly circling around each other, in and out of the squinty summer haze. I watched them... Every widening circle brought them closer to the little shard of sky above my territory. I waved, overcome by a surge of spontaneous camaraderie. All of a sudden, the kite which was trailing behind until now, took the lead. And as the distance between the two narrowed, the tip of their wings touched. A blinding spark cleaved the air. High and heraldic, detached from their immediate surrounding, they were the world...the universe. Nothing else existed. It was the most sublime aerial dance, so wholly in sync with the blazing symphony of inner scapes.

How many like myself out there were privy to this ecstatic moment, I wondered. Brimming with gratitude, certain in the knowledge that I was amongst the few allowed to witness this mystical bonding between two beings, not just because of some supreme synchronicity, but because they had wished me to be there. I was Fire, one who hosts...and I was also  the Raven, who had dared to  steal the Fire from the immortals. Yet at that moment, more than anything, I yearned to be Icarus: thirsting for attainable light, wanting to graft wings on my mortal crawl... And maybe touch the stars.