Not Icarus
NOT ICARUS
Thoughts and dreams flutter and flow into the mind bright,
Recognising no boundary between possible and fantasy.
Could we find time to pursue each, why - the soul’s flight
Would render ordinary life pale and simply shadowy.
The dawn would cease to be a wonder in the east
And blossoming trees would show no fresh appeal
The colours of summer would no longer be a feast
Autumn’s harvest would be gathered without zeal.
But hours enough to chase imagined thought
Are held fast by the mundane world’s tight grip
Yes, to soar in imagination is what we ought
But our wings are lead and shorten down our trip.
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