What Brings You?
How is it so, That Icarus flew so close to the Sun, That if Reason had her way, She would draw him forth with those slender arms, never to let him burn, That had he not fled on his wondrous wings, He should never feel the light of day? Did not mankind leave their warm and fitting blanket For the cold, empty reaches of space? Not knowing certainly that all would be for naught, Yet knowing all the same that doom would be their shoulder to cry on, If they failed. The marvel it seems, Is in the eye that gazes upon the universe, That human kindling eye, Which seeks without rapport, That blindly wanders within the abyss, Hoping to find a vibrant light, That they know will only starken the darkness. So then, one might ask, What brings you here? What assures you of this finality? What behooves you to see the light of day, As certainly as Icarus, Who flew too close to the Sun, and burned in that distant horizon? Where for one moment perhaps...