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.