Icarus About To Fall
How is it possible to climb
So far, so high, so clear
Into this acid-blue, cloudless sky
And to feel the warmth
Upon naked back and limbs
After so many years
Of cold confinement
Down there in the dark
With dearest Daedelus?
Who would not wish to flee
From an unjust captivity
Subject to Minos’ punishment
For earth-bound earlier sins?
Or desire to end the pain of a father
Whose cautious warning
Betrays his fractious fearfulness?
And how may mere wax and feathers
Fashion human wings
That may lift a sluggish body
Prising it from the clutching fingers
And heavy prisoning grip of Earth
To let it soar and glide
And fly, dazzled, towards Helios?
And why not tempt the gods
By reaching the height of eagles
Stretching sinews
Facing the blinding glare
Of solar brightness?
Or glance down towards the sea
To gain a glimpse of Paros, Delos
And Samos far below?
How close might one fly
To the hot, burning disc
That radiates its vital force
Before being forced to turn away
To avoid tumbling from the heavens
Falling headlong to a certain death
And perishing beneath the ocean spray?
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