How Slow Poem by Emmanuel George Cefai

How slow
What ennui
What ennui

Life goes round
As the donkey
Round the water-mill
Patient and submissive
To destiny
Resigned

Then
Of a sudden
Feeling in its breast
Burn the old ancient
Still unquenched
Promethean fire
It rises from
Its misery:
Just in the ECG
A sudden line
Arises from the troughs
And spurts.

The night, the dusk
The same
The dawn after dawn
The same
The secret lights
Danced on certain tombs
Of Earth bustling wombs
The same
The same
And Evolution be at work
And Time and Motion
Move forth
Irrepressible
Then
Reflecting quite
In conservation see what was before:
So be
So be

How slow
What ennui
What ennui