The tale is written in stone.
Peril to the passionate fool who
Ignores the legend!
A cruel fate for him
Who scales the bitterly cold
Heights without the aid of
A mask!
At those exposed,
Heroic points on the arc,
Our breath labors halting
Shallow,
Short.
Our insides
Blister and blaze
From our pulsing focus;
We clutch in agony.
The tenacity of our legs and
The strength of our arms remains
In doubt.
There’s not much more to give.
Still, we envision ourselves
At the apex,
Standing
Above the rest of mankind --
Critically weakened but
Still standing.
From that upswept perch,
We reach out for the prize,
Where the
Ring and rise of love
Wings free, untethered!
Drunk with adrenaline,
Dazed in desire,
Absurdly courageous!
It’s as if the slackened capacity
To breathe is compensated by
The means to aviate!
The stratospheric air
Deranges the senses
And we take a pauper’s pride
In the fleeting flight of
The spirit:
Contact!
Nose up.
Head wind rising...
Just blue above; beyond, the stars!
Ice forming. Gravity fading.
Drafting and drifting in a
Cold, crisp climb.
Fear flung far!
We cannot fall!
No...
We will not plunge to defeat,
Disappearing
Beneath the mist that drapes
The mountain below.
We are kept safe in God’s grasp
Once again.
Our purpose is pure…
But, alas,
Fall we will;
Plunge we must.
For this moment has been foretold:
We are but the children of Daedalus,
The great artificer of old.
We carry on the ill-fated conceit
Of winged Icarus!
This lot was cast long ago and
Is prologue to our
Descent
Into sadness.
We will henceforth walk amid
The smoldering ruins as
Empty-men.
Less actors, more specters;
Haunting,
Hunted,
Forsaken.
Eternally separate, we are,
From the over-world of lovers,
Sweetly wooing;
Forever seeking a way out
Of this flat earth,
This parched plane of
Pain and decay.
We struggle to find a place
Of forest greens and verdant fields of
Soft swells and subtle curves;
A place where water laps and crests,
Glistening clear or foaming ferocious!
Where magnificent mountains
Tilt and ****** heavenward,
Up through a misty canopy...
To reclaim the quest...to
Reach for the prize and
Climb again!
To rise to a place where
We might die...
But we may also fly.
The pain of separation is real. At least I can get lost in words.