Oceanic Depths

Within the dark of oceanic depths, Atlantis
shakes again, as if a catastrophic quake were
happening. Its inhabitants, for so long left to
sleep, begin awakening, wondering
what force came into play to make it so.
They feel twin towers crumbling to dust
amid a swarm of death-defying screams so
loud that the vibrations of this sound
must come to alter everything that is.

A quivering resounds and moves through
outer space; and thus a resonance comes
back to play - a harmony for too long thought
as lost among the waves. "Moving on, we're
finally moving on." This quiet murmur turns
into a marvelous quintessence, as spirit voices
echo through our universal being. This too,
comes to relieve an overwhelming sense
of suffering.

A sense of *something* happening, beyond
what they can see, begins to fill all mortal forms
with empathy, that comes to ring more clearly
than mere thoughts of sympathy could ever sing.
Mystified, at first they know not what to say
or do. For this strange feeling comes to haunt
each moment, every instant, of the life they
used to know as true. Strange and altered, sad
and utterly unbent, they seek to find just this -
one uttered sense of beauty in the innocence
that came to such destruction.

And so they wait, while gathering momentum;
these ancient guides of all humanity. (Can you
hear them whispering of all the love they wish
to share with you...?) A seeming endlessness of
wait-filled days are spent within a place that might
perhaps be named as only limbo, and yet each
newborn spirit finds a counterpart just there, e'en
as they reach that point of no return to what once
used to be, the reach for home. A swelling out,
and then - implosion.  Dust once set as concrete
being breathed into the atmosphere.

Angels enter in, to soothe the pain of those
who lasted longer than the rest; and help them
find their way to paradise. Yet first must come
acceptance and farewells. Just then the
dream-world enters into play, and it seems as
if the night and day become just one again. 'Tis
then so many come realize the might that lies
beyond, behind, the will of all humanity - yet too,
they come to find that love of heart and soul
are somehow heightened there, just there -
within each earthen form.

Counterpart to counterpart, the ancient and the
new, renew the mystic magic of each heart that
loves in truth. Comforting those left behind by
showing them that dreams are real - as real as
any touch of flesh can be, yet somehow more.
For here an ever-altering persuasion comes to
be; and here the ancient magic brings its powers
into play again. This time in multitudes. For the
power of all life lies in this love.

Within the dark of oceanic depths, Atlantis
shook again, as if a catastrophic quake were
happening. Its inhabitants, for so long left to
sleep, begin awakening, wondering
what force came into play to make it so.
They felt the might of hatred take a stand,
and came again to see that ever-living
dissipation blowing in the earthen winds -
breathing itself into everything.
For they lived their death too long,
too long - to allow the dark a power
to receive another victory.

The cost of this recovery is vast, yet never
has it meant so much as now, as life and
death begin to grasp each other's hands
at long last, one again...

? Michaelette ?

9/17/2001
Copyright© 2001 Michaelette L. Romano
All Rights Reserved
Take me home...