Sympathy for Icarus

Coveting what reminds me of Jesus
can’t be bad.

God in flesh, the tangible expression.

Gazing upon a spark of the Divine.
Closer, closer

To smell, to touch,

to taste and see that He is good

that I might become good.
Closer, closer

my mortal weakness carries me
too far.

It wasn’t ambition but admiration

that led to flapping my

bare arms.

Wax dripping from me, what I thought
was a sweat. Thrill.

Flight leaves me, feathers mocking

a soft descent.

Gazing up at the bright
wonder that
radiates

and causes
me to giggle awkwardly.

Beads form on my lip, exposed.

Everything melts

as I plummet

aware.

Plunging into cold.

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2 responses to “Sympathy for Icarus

  1. What awesome imagery! Beautifully done…I have experienced this, in my upward flight towards the One. I see my waxen wings as imperfectly formed expressions of my true self. Its good that they go but the plummet into truth afterwards can be one wild ride!
    I want to sit with this some more, my friend…thank you!

    Like

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