I Like Icarus
Like a moth drawn unto a flame;
I like Icarus sought the same.
Past moons and stars on fleshly wings
I soared towards the sun and distant dreams.
Forgotten now the darkness of my wilderness below,
I flew in freedoms’ quest seeking my own soul.
Yet, I like Icarus flew too close to the sun.
And my wings of flesh melted, as I fell into the darkness below.
Burnt, and broken, I lay in the compost heap of my own mind.
Days chased the nights, and the months gave birth to a year.
Clouds hid the sun from my sight, and it was then that I realized…
I like the moth; I like I Icarus sought the wrong light; the wrong Son.
J. Allen Wilson © 8/28/2009
John 8: 35-36
35 And the servant abideth not in the house for ever: but the Son abideth ever. 36 If the Son therefore shall make you free, ye shall be free indeed.