Thousands Of Coins Poem by Emmanuel George Cefai

Thousands of coins
Rotating
Under a pair of eyes
Detached, alone, in
Solitude, sub-conscious.
The fighter of the plane
He rose at Dawn and
To fly over the Island
Went to meet the end.
Of Saint Mary Feast Day
Bells ring today
From all sides
Fires in display
Since yesterday
Particles atomic-nuclear from town
To town roamed nocturnal
After each display
Of fireworks.
Child father to the church
They donned and went
Saint Mary's Feast Day
Statue, mass, chandeliers,
Lamps, lights of light,
People's invasion, incense.
Ah! the day came and
The day passes too
Hear each day
The dusk is feasting
For once
But what dusk wreaks not
Succeeding night does.
I heard bells ringing
Right before the dawn
Today
I was asleep and
Dreaming.
There's too much consciousness
Today.
We need the sub-conscious oxygen
Today.
More, my Monsignor, more.
Ivory eyes yet hollow
The skeleton rattled
Since the dawn's morrow
Wished to clothed in flesh
Mix with the crowds
Dispense for a few
Hours
From his sorrow
At least up to noon in
Morrow.
Today's the Feast!
Saint Mary walks
Over the crowds
In statues borne.
Walk to the bus
The feast is ended
As all in finity
The feast is faded
But
Awhile let ussuck
The grapes of pleasure
Awhile we celebrate
The switch of day is
On.
Today.
My Monsignor, today.
Bones and sorrow
Rattling and creaking
In ears whispering
As yet another morrow!
The waters glide
The waters glide my friend
Inside the churches
Censers swing and end
Their sway; the music plays
And high over the alter
Voices high comment.
Come! Come! let's
Don a mask and wait
For dusk to come
Awhile the feasting walks:
We will be sad and pine.
Ours
Will the nobler heart
Be.
Though sad our eyes
Near to tears look and
Over the waters, pine.
Others feast, we pine
At dusk.
We finish before them
They wait the night
Till it will begin deep:
Our nobility-hungry souls
Will with dusk fade
Into the plain bosom
Waters.
The same
Will fade for the revelers
Of the feasts
Ah! there's a lesson
Simple, tall:
In a finity, there's fading
And
There's ending.
Chant
This Incantation of today
It had beginning
And
It had end
So to say
For
Once the Incantation out
Inwards into the Soul,
The Inner Soul it will
Permanent wend.
Bring on the lights!
Here dark grows not
With night but with the
Red dusk; come.
The waters of the night
Will find us,
Faded.
Bends the inner flower
Bends its head
With dusk before
The night.
We have
Drawn on this Incantation
Bend!
The Soul that speaks now
Draws to its
Conclusion
Come, my Monsignor
Go we, go we