(Sure you've heard of Icarus.)
Hi, lovers of poems and myths.
Highly probable you are familiar with the myth of Icarus, son of Deadalus (a craftsman), who ended up dead, for he had ignored his father’s warning. Icarus was not supposed to fly too close to the sea, lest the wax which held his wings together would melt, rendering the crafted gift useless liquid. But once Icarus was flying, he couldn’t help himself; he went and flew so close to the sun that the wax melted, and well, you may guess how that went.
Deadalus had tried his own pair of wings first, and everything went fine for him. As many fathers who want their children to follow their lead, Deadalus thought his would obey. But as many fathers’, his expectations weren’t met.
The truth is most of us, someone’s children, drown in our own Icaria of failure and falls. We may not die; we may thrive (our mouths and lungs expelling water).
I wondered what would’ve happened if Icarus had not flown so high. Had he kept to his father’s command, would have he succeeded? Who can tell life would have been different had we taken a different path.
Take Icarus
One day, on a different page,
Icarus decided after long thought
he wouldn’t fly at all—for a change.
He sat alone and waited
for all his father would command.
And soon his chest withered
and his arms fainted.
And lost, he wandered.
And his dreams waned
like the kind moon which light
had become blinding
to his sensitive eyes
now only used to seeing
from the fearing distance
the far reached fire
of impossible stars.
Thanks for reading.
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