Page:Now We Are Six (1955).pdf/108

It’s flying from somewhere
 As fast as it can,
I couldn’t keep up with it,
 Not if I ran.

But if I stopped holding
 The string of my kite,
It would blow with the wind
 For a day and a night.

And then when I found it,
 Wherever it blew,
I should know that the wind
 Had been going there too.

So then I could tell them
 Where the wind goes . . .
But where the wind comes from
 Nobody knows.