I have become a kite, cradled by the flowing water as I drift, and unable to steer my own course even with my wings.

A string slices through the gentle current, anchoring me to the riverbed. This feeling of helplessness makes me wonder—did the fish we once chased in the water feel this same flutter of panic?

The humans are searching for me, yet what they seek to redeem is themselves.

Sinking, sinking… the fading warmth makes me dizzy. This winter is truly cold.

The riverbed I remember feels farther and farther away, yet I cannot forget the comfort of the river's embrace.

The temperature of human hands feels much like my own. I sense their kindness. Still I long for the freedom within the waters.

Return, return… let water be water, and shore be shore.