Icarus

V

In the quietude of my musings, I find myself drawn to reveal the deepest truth about what echoes within the divine realm. I believe that at the very core dwells true love, not simply as the fleeting sentiment, but as an eternal force. Such love, pristine and genuine, when born and cultivated in the human spirit, harmonises perfectly with the grand architecture of existence. And so, my contemplation turns to Icarus, whose tale whispers not of haughtiness alone, but of something infinitely more profound, which is his longing reached beyond mere vanity, towards the azure Mediterranean expanse of Sicily. Such is the bearing of divine imprint – to be fashioned in the image of the Creator. As it is, the revelation pierces me with exquisite sorrow, for like Icarus, I too have known the depths of love – a healing love who many comprehend only in their falling. For love surpasses mere fondness. It is truly an all-consuming dread of separation, an immense terror that stretches beyond the boundaries of my or the comprehension of anyone. Like a shadow that grows longer at twilight, such fear expands until it engulfs the very human heart. So does Icarus, utterly possessed by the fierce grip of love. To fully understand love is to willingly embrace all perils, even if it culminates in the tragic descent. For to truly fathom love, one must inevitably relinquish it, much as Icarus surrendered all. Thus, only when I lastly gaze upon my burning wings and the diminishing silhouette of my beloved sun can I truly grasp the exquisite beauty and anguish of my love towards it.

And no, please, do not presume that love bestows answers to each human question, for it surely does not. Indeed, love offered no solace to Icarus. It rather stood witness to his tragic demise. In the entirety, the myth veils the presence of eminent love in Icarus. Were Icarus amongst us, we might fail to know the depths of his passion. None would perceive that behind his gaze burned an untameable desire to embrace the obscurity. And I am sure, the root of the dilemma will dwell deep within ourselves. The nature of our human predicament lies within our evolved state, where superficial appearances command greater significance than the depths they might conceal. Perhaps it would explain the perpetual pursuit of novelty by humanity, and the eagerness to grasp at fresh experiences while remaining willfully blind to their inner substance. Thereafter, upon reflection, I believe that without love, Icarus would never have flown; with that neither the thirst for discovery nor the destined-to-fail crusade could exist, if there is no omnipotence of love in the foundational chapter, which in all of the myriad forms and feasible possibilities, is probably the very primordial force, propelling us beyond any earthly constraints.

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