ICARUS

My father has his mazes; his hands know things
beyond all men, but his interests are not mine.
Content with craft, he hovers.  I soar.  His wings
have need of my fierce will.  Why worship at shrines
of lesser gods?  I fly to test my worth
against immortal intellect, to drink
a wine not offered those of humble birth.
I shall outstare the sun and never blink.

There is a truer life that lies beyond
the ordinary mortal.  Can Zeus refuse
a seeker of pure wisdom who wagers all 
for an ideal?  How could he cast me down?
But if these wings should fail me, let the Muse
inspire her poets with the grandeur of my fall.

—Robert Darling

All rights to this poem belong to its author.

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