Ada's Adventure

Painting by Rick Mobbs

Ada’s Adventure

In Atlantis
there existed a world
without war,
where children could be raised
devoid of fear,
of racism,
of hate;
beautiful children,
whose resplendent robes
shimmered with every color,
who were still in touch, in contact,
with Allthatis,
who could still remember their past lives,
who were born wistful yet wise, not
whelped into chaos
like the future brood.

Love was a constant,
a natural state,
more sustenance than gift—
so much so
their spiritual companions;
teachers, guides, and protectors
were actual, real, incarnate,
regal in their wings,
feathers, capes, compassion
and nakedness.

Miss Ada was blond
this time around,
brown eyed,
mischievous,
intelligent,
diminutive,
unafraid,
eager for the learning,
still playful,
viewing her world
with a innate sense of wonder,
treading lightly over the rainbow rock cobblestones
in her marvelous pointy red shoes.

Her Master Companion,
Raffuselda,
part griffin,
part python;
famous for her ferocious loyalty
and her positive outcomes,
took the little girl daily
to the Temples
of Learning,
of Health,
of Science,
of the Arts,
and the Circus of Creatures—
mammals, reptiles, amphibians, insects,
and all the things of flight,
from pixies to phoenix.

Ada’s favorite was
the Temple of Oceans,
visiting it every day,
stopping by the arch of the Red Skull,
to peer through the thick blue glass and talk
with the dolphins, sharks, and sea horses;
they loved her interest
and unabashed affection;
speaking openly to her,
sharing the wonderful wisdom
of Neptune and Trident and Davy Jones,
all the secrets of the silver coral
and the magnificent machinations
of things unseen but heard, heralding
from the shadowed depths of the deepest trenches,
from curved crevasses,
from thick and majestic shells—
mumbled messages from
the Sages of the Salt.

It was they, in unison,
who first sounded the alarm,
warning the girlish entity
of impending doom,
of a disaster that would certainly occur
on her 21st birthday—
when all she knew;
population, edifices, structures, knowledge, art,
would sink into the sea
and wholly disappear,
becoming myth, legend, and a tale of woe.
Ada only nodded and smiled.
She had chosen this age and this life,
and since she was fully aware
of the Cosmic Truths,
mere transitions
did not frighten her—
but at that moment in the Now
she could not yet see
the Nubian slave,
the Greek goddess,
the Roman gladiator’s woman,
the Persian prostitute,
the Catholic nun,
the King’s mistress,
the Pilgrim,
the French revolutionist,
the Sioux princess,
the bank robber,
the WWII riveter,
and the well received daughter
of artists in New Mexico,
that she would become.

Glenn A. Buttkus August 2008