[Poem-a-Week] On Bruegel’s Landscape with the Fall of Icarus by S.T. Brant
Nothing to notice in moments of extraordinary occurrence.
i. Nothing to notice in moments of extraordinary occurrence. Why are we settled to adjust our lives to the sirens of disruption when they sound? Cast your eyes to the right, Ploughman, what you see will alter you forever. Adventure has not fallowed, your heroic hopes have not aged past execution, Shepherd, I see you looking skyward, Seeing Daedalus pursue a freedom I know you’re wanting… You have your dog, You have work needing done at home that only you can do. There’s heroics in those tasks: Could Daedalus do that? do the basic chores life asks? So many in your town depend on you. What would become of this place If you abdicated, if you selfishly excused yourself, left this life for another? Isn’t it more heroic to stay and perform your role for others? Or else, can you hear the disaster in the town? What are we do to do? Where could he have gone, what are we to do? He left his dog! What you hear is Icarus falling in the sea… But you stay fixed on Daedalus. ii. What did Icarus think, falling? What of the sea, Bruegel? Did it have thoughts about the tumult on its top? See the Chaos where he fell: Worse waves than are rifted by the ship, so minor in comparison, So high he fell, the sea must have opinion of this event. Even the sea, that traveler of the world, becomes confounded by routine. But only the sea absorbs this moment. The splash sounds as driven nails. The sea is boards. Something in the shepherd flinches. The captain keeps direction toward the sun; Only the fisher by the shore Could haul in Icarus, But he lacks the net. He sits, proficient to the task he’s at- trust his hands, secure his needs, keep his catch. A bird observes. The shepherd’s sheep are grazing. Icarus sinks.
