Confession of Icarus

They shook their silvered heads, strands whiter than
my sea foam splash and said that children can't
behave -- they never listen, do they? No.
The old may think I made mistakes there but

they underestimate the value of
a journey in all directions, of
the test over fear it takes to plunge and still
appreciate dimension's beauty best.

They judge the distance as it just fell short
in length, forgetting how without such depth
a human cannot live - how flatness kills
as sure as any precipitous fall.

I plummet, yet I will never look back,
embracing my last plunge to ocean black.