Every day is a climb to a troubled peak
ever in sight, never in reach.
It hovers nearly above my height
and follows my journey just in half sight,
a hand’s distance to grasp with miles to go,
luring my feet on though ascension is slow
to illusory destination and a doomed flight.
In the gaze of the other 
This is great! I feel I know how you feel after reading this. Sparks a lot of thoughts and metaphors in my head.
Mythology has been on my mind lately after reading and discussing an essay in class about race. Wideman is the author, and his essay sparked an interesting discussion on the sentence, “Race is myth.”
Icarus died reaching beyond what he could grasp. His disappointment ended his life. He went above the precipice of possibilities and plummeted to the depths of reality. Do dream. Do reach. Do leap above the precipice. Do reach for the sun. But prepare yourself to grasp the clouds.
Icarus disobeyed his father’s admonition about empirically proven cause and effect and burned for such foolishness.