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.
Copyright © Sidney Beck | Year Posted 2011
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