An Unforseen Icarus This work is considered exceptional by our editorial staff.

September 26, 2013
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Stones: little nuisances painted with insignificance.
Tiny blunders, the creators of clumsiness,
The killers of grass.
Small, worthless additions to the bottom layer of the earth.

Jagged, round, perfect, smooth, destroyed:
Characteristics that I will step over and kick around.
Never the object of my thoughts,
The product of accidents and disasters.

A man cloaked in robes with stringy gray hair
Whispered nonsense to the concrete that he lies against:
“I’ve seen stones fly.”
He turned his filmy eyes to me:
“They just need you to watch.”

Dear helpless stones, how I have misjudged you.
For as surely as the sun stands higher than the trees,
Stones sprout speckles of feathers,
You rise from the dust.
The more I watch, the higher they soar.
Their silhouettes stain the grass they once lie on:
Endless murals of sacred forms.
The bottom layer of the earth yearns for you,
You sail above the stars, and I reach for you.
Glide towards the moon, but never crumble.
Fly away, you Icaruses of the night,
Unforeseen majesty.

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Maurice777 This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine. said...
Sept. 29, 2013 at 12:35 am
This poem is incredibly inspiring on numerous contemptous levels. The imagery you incorporated in describing the stones and how once the sun began to rise the icaruses came to life was truly magnificent. I quite honestly felt as if I was there. Bravo!
Lana_not_anal replied...
Sept. 29, 2013 at 4:42 pm
Thank you so much! This means a lot to me.
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