Icarus in Three Parts

I.
My heart is breaking
and mending itself daily.

A moment of joy,
then a sudden sorrow
raining
from a cloud of heartache
welling
in a crystal pool of pain.

Love, the healer,
love, the destroyer,
love sets us aloft
and then sets us on fire.

It doesn't care
what burns in its path
or who reaches out toward its flames.

And what is to come
when we are all burning?

Reaching out toward the sun
then plunging into the depths -

extinguished by our delusions
of the grandeur of love.

II.
For one brief moment,
at the peak of his winged arc into the sky,
reaching out,
he felt his hand grow warm.

Now he falls forever to the sea
his wings disintegrating,
his blood boiling.
He drifts downward
feeling his falling
from grace,
his heart melting,

defeated by his desire.

He loved the sun.

He only wanted to touch its face.

III.
Desire
will not take the middle path.

It swoops and dives and soars high.

It climbs -
seeking the lofty ideal of love.

Then,
after falling from ambitious ascent,
the wax melted
the body submerged
the feathers floating aimlessly
from heaven,

we sink with Icarus
to the depths,

and are left to wonder
what happened
and what to do now

that there are no more heights to climb.