The boy had hold of heaven by a string,
and the kite was on the end of it.
And his joy could not be measured
by the laughter of his voice, on the wind,
on the hilltop, far above the earth.
And he was happy,
so happy that he could not tell you.
For today he reached with all his heart
into the air and held the wind in his hands.
And his face was shining,
as he tugged at the string,
and the fragile thing climbed higher
into the wide, blue dream of a laughing heaven.