Anyway, I've always found myself drawn to the mythological story of Icarus. I don't remember where I first heard it, and I don't know why I like it so much, but there it is. There's something about the thought of hopelessly chasing the sun and falling, recklessly, to the cold sea below. Anyway, some more of my feelings on that should be explained more eloquently in the poem below.
For those of you who don't know, here's a brief summary of Icarus's story:
| Icarus (IK-uh-rus) |
| Icarus (son of Daedalus) dared to fly too near the sun on wings of feathers and wax. Daedalus had been imprisoned by King Minos of Crete within the walls of his own invention, the Labyrinth. But the great craftsman's genius would not suffer captivity. He made two pairs of wings by adhering feathers to a wooden frame with wax. Giving one pair to his son, he cautioned him that flying too near the sun would cause the wax to melt. But Icarus became ecstatic with the ability to fly and forgot his father's warning. The feathers came loose and Icarus plunged to his death in the sea. |
Icarus, The Dead Legend (They Don't Tell You Everything)
-I-
-I-
Imprisoned. Wrongly imprisoned. Daedalus paces the beach.
Icarus stands at the edge of the ocean. He is young. Unworried. Carefree. Reckless.
Daedalus sees the wings of the birds that circle far above.
"If only we could fly."
Tired of standing still and watching his father worry, Icarus picks up feathers that have fallen and runs, waving them in his fists. He is carefree. He leaps and the feathers flutter.
Daedalus smiles.
"We have work to do, son."
Icarus doesn't want to work. He drags his feet as they enter the labyrinth. He casts longing glances at the sun glinting on the sea.
They are busy all through the dark night.
-II-
The sun is rising as they exit the labyrinth.
Daedalus worries.
"The wind is not yet strong enough."
Icarus was told that they were going to fly. His eyes are filled with stars and his bones feel as light as the feathers on his back.
He does not want to wait.
"Wait."
Icarus jumps up and down. Impatient. Reckless.
"We will fly at noon."
-III-
Icarus was not as young as they tell you. He was not a little boy. He was reckless, yes, easily won over, impatient, careless. But he was old enough to know better. Under ordinary circumstances, he would have known better than to chase the sun.
- IV-
- IV-
Noon approaches. Icarus is eager. Daedalus worries.
"The wind is strong enough. My son, we will fly."
Icarus leads the climb to the top of the cliff. Daedalus checks and double checks straps.
"My son, my son. Remember my words.
Do not fly too close to the sun. The wax will melt."
-V-
(This is all they will tell you of the father's words.
They warn against aiming too high.
They warn about the heat.
Passion could burn the world down, they say. )
-VI-
"My son, do not fly too close to the sun. The wax will melt and you shall fall.
But take care and do not fly too low. The sea spray, the foam, the waves, will weigh down your wings and you shall fall.
Do not fall."
-VII-
They fly.
-VII-
The sun is overhead. Bright, yellow, warm. Icarus never knew cold until he tasted the sun.
He never knew anything could be so bright
So warm
He never thought he could be so cold
His wings angle, and he catches a draft of air going up.
-IX-
Daedalus shouts, warning against the heat.
It is hopeless.
He knows it's no use.
-X-
Icarius hears his father. He throws his head back and laughs. Recklessness surging in his heart and lifting him just as much as the wind does.
He feels the wind blow back the dark curls from his freckled cheeks, the blue eyes the color of the sea.
He spreads his wings.
He flies.
-XI-
(They don't tell you he was unafraid and deliberate. They blame it on the sun. They claim it was a spell, a trance.
They don't tell you it was deliberate.
It is terrifying to believe, because we know it would be the same for us.)
-XII-
Daedalus knows he is gone.
He weeps, still flying across the sea to his homeland and his freedom.
His son is gone, half of his heart is at the bottom of the sea.
"My son, my son, I warned you.
Farewell, my son."
-XIII-
Icarus falls.
The wax runs hot on his back and feathers float past him as he plummets.
He laughs as the harness chafes his shoulderblades and death approaches. He is unafraid and careless. He had tasted the sun, and he thought that was all he needed.
-IXX-
The sea rushed to greet him. Waves caught him and tossed him until gravity pulled him down.
The sea is cold, cold, cold. So far away from the sun. Icarus lies back on the ocean floor and greets death.
Death does not take him. One so young, so full of fire, it cannot touch him without fear of being burnt.
Icarus waits.
-XX-
He does not regret. For the first thousand years, he does not regret.
But the thousand and first year, it comes.
Lying there in the silence, waiting, waiting, watching the sun filter through the water above.
What is he missing up there?
He cannot escape his thoughts. It is so quiet and he is alone.
-XXI-
(They never talk about after the fall. It is assumed he died. But so often, when one is assumed dead, that is not the case.)
-XXII-
Lifetimes later, they find him. Drag him up from the depths.
He struggles. Tries to explain, with a throat full of salt and a tongue clumsy with an ancient language.
He does not want to rise. Rising caused so much pain before. He cannot go upwards, back to the light.
They do not know what to do with him.
Icarus, they wonder. Is this the boy who the sun killed?
-XXIII-
He cannot explain that the sun did not kill him.
He is not dead.
The sun did nothing.
He chased light and warmth and love and life.
They abandoned him.
He cannot explain and they wouldn't understand.
-IXXX-
(They wouldn't believe him.
It is too terrifying to believe him.
We are all Icarus. We all have a part of his flaming spirit.
We all would chase the sun given the chance.
We all dream of flying.
Airplanes are proof of this, skydivers and parasailers. We want to fly but we must give ourselves restraints so that we do not chase the sun.
We have learned our lesson from the boy of the sea.)
-XXX-
(I am Icarus.
I ache for the sky. I long to fly.
The sun is so warm, so bright.
Down on this earth filled with hate and discrimination and violence and war,
I am so, so cold, and so blind.
The sun promises warmth.
I long to fly.)
