Hear Me My Monsignor Poem by Emmanuel George Cefai

My Monsignor, hear.
There's the New Culture.
You have to be an apostle of New Culture.

For things of Earth largely
We look at heavens and
Immensities.

Our voices are harsh and raw
And blunt
But than the sweet, stronger.

Our thoughts are grand and
Drear.
Stress of Earth fades and fear
With it.
Instead
The noble Soul, the free
Inner Soul that hovers.
And sleep and dreams of
Ghost and shroud and
Cemeteries.