|
“Icarus”
A golden flame dancing, swinging,
Moving in step with the universe,
Feeling the rhythm of time,
Of history,
Of simply being,
Amorphous shifting parabol,
Hypnotic movement, unmistakable color,
Captivating,
Burning into the retinas,
Finding life in the eyes after death,
Living on as a spark, a gleam,
A softness that melts the iris,
Melting the color into a rich puddle,
Reflective, uniform,
Inviting another in to shed the jagged ice that falls from the eyes when melted,
Dwindling the supply of available tears,
Giving them away,
Leaving none to sour the fruit,
The beauty, the possibility that lay ahead
The gate to the soul is not closed off,
Instead it is inviting, warm,
A fire burning on a cold winter’s night,
Taking away the numb pain of a frozen heart,
Thawing, saving the runoff to baste,
To nourish a newly blossoming love,
Fortifying a strong base,
One that will stand time, the axes of hate,
And anything else that will set its mind to destroy what has been achieved,
Failing, disintegrating before contact can be made,
For two flames, dancing in time,
Moving and burning together,
These two flames are white,
Hot enough to burn all that touches,
Protection is only by keeping a flame of your own,
One of the few,
For not all can tame the beast,
Some are doomed to burn,
Like Icarus,
Getting too close to what they aren’t ready for,
Unable to wait for their time in the sun.
|
 |
|
