Icarus

I know,
now,
how Icarus felt
soaring
higher, higher
arms aching
sweat on his brow
captivated by the light.
 
I know
now,
how he yearned to fly
free and alone
feathered wings rippling
in the currents
of air,
how the sun,
beckoning, with
beautiful, searing
tumultuous rage,
summoned him
higher, higher
until he flew
too close.
 
I, too,
know what it is
to burn
to fly too close
too high.
 
I, too,
was burned
as I soared closer
to you,
as I felt your heat,
and the warm, bright
halo of your light
 
And just like Icarus,
I fell,
plummeting,
spiralling
feathers and wax and
hope
tumbling to the ground
 
And like Icarus,
no one ever asked me
if the burn was sweet
if the blinding
was worth it
or if,
given the gift of a new
pair of wings,
I might gladly
soar upwards again.