Echoes of Atlantis
There is Agony Above the Soil
written by: Kimber-Lee Basson
Scorching dry summers and frigid cool wet winters
Carve your way down from the elevated white sand dunes and
watch the yellow yolk drop down behind the iconic Table Mountain
Adrenaline surges down my spine through my core, hips swinging, calves flexing
And there he appears
The most striking dark Harrier with large white panels adorning its underwings
His white rump patch and barred tail allow for a graceful dance in the sky
While he glides his body high over the pure Atlantis dunes,
holding its wings in a V-shape heading towards the Atlantic coastline
The charcoal juvenile stares me deep in the eye with its pierced amber jewels
My mind drifts sharply as I cycle back home thinking about his eyes,
thinking about how I can fly away from the sunken corrupted village
The avenue of blue gum trees standing tall behind my gated orange house invigorate my lungs anew
But how do I inhale this new life with the death along the avenue of these blue gum trees?
The surreal world of Atlantis stretches a horrifying place
A place where their bodies were found beneath the comforting shade of the sprawling trees
A place where the murderers bartered away humans like livestock;
I yearn for hope like the mothers and the fathers searching tirelessly amidst the trees and soil
I cling onto my green-brown friend and I whisper a soft human song for the unbearable agony
They mirror the human experience, reflecting our joys, sorrows, aspirations, and fears
I dream of the lost village as a utopian civilization with great naval power and concentric islands and that it resembles the Garden of Eden
However,
The Atlantis that I know is not a myth Plato
The Atlantis that I know is not a legendary island Plato
The Atlantis that I know happens to be,
happens to be the vivid essence of a place
I will always call home.
- Echoes of Atlantis - January 27, 2025
- Monday Mornings in Monaco - September 30, 2024
- A Poem to My Peter - September 2, 2023
