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Throw caution to the wind – just this once.
Dared to soar but destined to plummet, for feeling alive is only the precursor to a disastrous end.
You’ve read of Icarus.
Through the pages you found your kindred spirit
always fluttering a tad too close to living.
The earth is closer now. Back blistering, feathers floating dangerously further from you, and despite the inevitable pain to come, laughter is the only friend you find comfort in.
Who else has earned their place beside you in this final descent?
You cry out; ignited, you burn – with joy, indescribable and unshackled joy,
Intoxicated by the winds and the skies and the freedom that has always been just beyond your reach.
The world grows cold at the sight: they fear the fire you have become,
the awakened hunger of your heart and the understanding in your eyes.
Icarus fell, and so do you.
But you are not sorry; you are not afraid to be lifted beyond the labyrinth and plunged into the depths of the unforgiving, your last vision of paradise a blue embrace —
all you dreamt it to be.
Because for once, your feet left the ground —
And there is no return.
You fell, yes, but that is not your defining mark upon this world. That matters not to you.
For before you fell, you flew.
Dared to soar but destined to plummet, for feeling alive is only the precursor to a disastrous end.
You’ve read of Icarus.
Through the pages you found your kindred spirit
always fluttering a tad too close to living.
The earth is closer now. Back blistering, feathers floating dangerously further from you, and despite the inevitable pain to come, laughter is the only friend you find comfort in.
Who else has earned their place beside you in this final descent?
You cry out; ignited, you burn – with joy, indescribable and unshackled joy,
Intoxicated by the winds and the skies and the freedom that has always been just beyond your reach.
The world grows cold at the sight: they fear the fire you have become,
the awakened hunger of your heart and the understanding in your eyes.
Icarus fell, and so do you.
But you are not sorry; you are not afraid to be lifted beyond the labyrinth and plunged into the depths of the unforgiving, your last vision of paradise a blue embrace —
all you dreamt it to be.
Because for once, your feet left the ground —
And there is no return.
You fell, yes, but that is not your defining mark upon this world. That matters not to you.
For before you fell, you flew.
Lauren Reuss, of Mt. Washington, Ky., is a member of the McConnell Scholar Class of 2022. She studies political science, economics and philosophy at the University of Louisville.