Atlantis

ATLANTIS When I set out for Atlantis of old The dawn will be stormed and grey skies Will show the way only indistinctly. This way is a cold treacherous way Where lurk many pitfalls and hindrances; But for those who follow closely Even in the leaden murk of winter’s skies It leads surely to the golden domed towers That in the distance proclaim Atlantis. Xanadu of imagined fable yet in real Stone and brick she stands bright Amid the early dawn and darkness of winter. All who live there have one thought And noble aspiration to guide Their daily tasks and their yearly ways - The arches, the pyramids, the avenues, Are but trappings which indicate The magnificence of the soul of Atlantis, Never lost nor abridged, though Forever submerged in the green waves And buried by the grains of time’s sands As a dream may end with waking Yet remains in the mind long after, Perhaps to be recaptured, recreated In the still dark hour before dawn.