My poem -- Icarus The sun struck my face as the wind whistled through the leaves, Suddenly I’m thrown back in time; to that moment when I flew, when I fell. I had been warned. Don’t fly too close! The wings were nothing more than wax and feathers. Dreams really. I took off, hesitantly, at first. Testing the wings, hesitant, would they hold? Gently flapping, feeling the lift of each stroke. The feathers straining, the wax holding. As my confidence grew, so did my exhiliration! The Sun – bright, warm, inviting. I just needed to fly a little nearer. I fly closer and closer, circling and climbing. The heat making me feel alive, encouraging me. The aches in my bones gone, healed by the heat; the emptiness inside filled by the light. Memories of pain, of losses, vanquished by the triumph of this moment. The Sun is beguiling, beautiful; luring me on, daring me. I fly higher and higher, closer and closer. The air is thin, I’m tiring, but can’t stop. I want to feel that heat full on me. It’s intense now, burning, joyous. Then I am falling, I’m flapping harder and harder, but I’m falling. The resistance is gone, my arms are wild, the wax is melting, feathers have fallen and burned. I tumble and fall back to earth. The light, the heat is gone. Once within my grasp, I have lost it.
Posted on: Wed, 24 Dec 2014 15:45:48 +0000
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