What does it feel like on the way down?
What thoughts race through one's mind as the spiral begins, quickens?
Icarus knew but nobody asked him
As his wingless chariot hastened
Ever more rapidly downward to its destination.
Is it better to soar boundlessly upon as-yet-untested wings
Or sacrifice celestial splendor for safe harbor's certainty?
Why does no one ask that of the fallen?
Icarus knew the answer
His lips pursed wryly, half-smiling, as he neared his spiral's denouement.
Those who would ask have no need of the response;
Their wings have already been clipped.
Neither would those who would not ask have need;
Like Icarus, its admonitions would plummet, without heed.
But in truth, only the ego is jettisoned
As one enters the final descent.
I too know this
I am the ego
I am Icarus.
What thoughts race through one's mind as the spiral begins, quickens?
Icarus knew but nobody asked him
As his wingless chariot hastened
Ever more rapidly downward to its destination.
Is it better to soar boundlessly upon as-yet-untested wings
Or sacrifice celestial splendor for safe harbor's certainty?
Why does no one ask that of the fallen?
Icarus knew the answer
His lips pursed wryly, half-smiling, as he neared his spiral's denouement.
Those who would ask have no need of the response;
Their wings have already been clipped.
Neither would those who would not ask have need;
Like Icarus, its admonitions would plummet, without heed.
But in truth, only the ego is jettisoned
As one enters the final descent.
I too know this
I am the ego
I am Icarus.
