I find myself in the depths. I find myself in the bits and pieces of what illuminates the edges of water. I find myself in the magic. I find myself in the light.
I forget fear as I go further. What felt like a burden, only seems to be pushing me in the right direction.
They are thin- the chances. The chances of me making it back to the shore are thin- but maybe, I don’t want to; maybe, we aren’t supposed to.
What if Atlantis was a story, not so much about a lost city, but a lot more about our lost hearts?
What it the tale was brought together by a few sly poets, who still take pleasure and laugh at us- they laugh at how foolishly we gush over the thoughts of finding this lost treasure, being the mystic refuge ourselves?
How long do we wish to play blind for? Shall it remain lost- is that a conscious choice? Is that why we run to banish those who seek?
– By Gauri Walecha
From The Quill 