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Icarus fell
for you.
Instead of sleeping he grew wings.
Forever insomniac, he took the wax
of a candle
and made it into prolonged arms
attached to feathers
fashioned from daydreams stronger
than him
but heavier
than air.
The skies
are no limits.
Thus proves
the migration of birds.
Icarus!
Icarus!
Beware of the sun!
It is fire.
Icarus!
Icarus!
Once you rise up the wind
takes you higher
than even birds can go.
My wax is of sunlight,
radiant crescents my wings.
From my eyes has arisen
a deeper vision of things.
Lo! The sun's fire will melt thee
and gravity, tear thee apart.
Thou art Icarus. Icarus
is all that thou art.
And Icarus looked up in surprise for a moment
and said:
Shall the freedom of which even vultures partake
be denied
to me,
and I am more than a vulture?
The smallest sparrow carelessly takes his share
in a happiness forever denied
to me,
and I am more than a sparrow.
The skies, the white valleys of clouds,
the beckoning light of the stars,
and the wonders of this world
great and small
were created for men and women with wings
who shall ascend to them,
see and know,
share their splendour and be their equals
in depth.
Icarus!
Icarus!
Will God endow a camel
with wings?!
You reach for the stars, for the heavens,
and you're the smallest of things!
The light I see stems
from true light
for it makes me conceive wings
that are wings
and flight
that is flight.
And one early morning when the world
was still asleep
Icarus stood on top of a mountain
and spread his wings.
"Poor work, those", people said,
"they're made of cheap wax.
He won't last a minute.
A fool who tempts fate", they said,
"why not accept one's limits?
We all have, haven't we?"
And to keep things working
they averted their eyes
when Icarus appeared
before them,
and they silenced him when he spoke to them.
When he appeared in their dreams,
they denied them and purged themselves
in the morning
of all longings
when they woke up early to earn their wages
and make savings for bad days,
bowing to the rich and giving a penny to the poor,
when they awoke to a morning like every morning,
every morning
and one day was like all days,
and thus
Icarus stood alone when he spread,
for the first time,
his wings
and leapt,
plunging
himself
into
the air
and flew,
rising high above,
sailing,
gliding
ascending
further,
triumphant he,
radiant,
free,
endless,
in the moment when he,
now and forever,
threw off the yoke
of gravity
and shed his limits
like an old, ragged
shirt.
Here and now.
I am not Icarus.
I am flight.
The name I'm called and its spell no longer
hold me.
For I am
everything
that is
Stone, bird and flower
Sea weed and tang
and mangrove
and light
travelling
through space
I am
Sunlight and fire
that melts my wings
and smashes me
against the cliffs
I am
the crushed limb and the blood oozing
from my wounds
I stand beside me,
my own death,
mirror
and mosaic
crushed by the weight of its own
light
eternal
Icarus!
Icarus!
We shall sweep your ashes
away
You've gone to pieces, the dust gathers
You shall be buried
today
Let the dead bury their dead,
I've known the freedom
of the skies
Now I have not lived in vain,
and if death is the price
I gladly pay it,
for so do we all
for much lesser a life
and for much lighter a fall
And thus,
while you were going about your daily chores
your wages and savings, your washing and cleaning
Icarus died
while he was thinking of you
from the wounds
of his flight.
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Regis
Ron
"From my eyes has arisen
a deeper vision of things."