Crowed Poem by Emmanuel George Cefai

Crowed out aloud the morning cocks
For it was morning
For it was dawn
and they wanted to be first
alighted by first light
to show the All
that they were first, supreme and
great.

Only
an aged Cock of Wisdom crowed
not
For he spent night contemplating
the Wise Owls that on nearby bough
sate
themselves and heard their speech
and learnt
and now all tired to the other cocks
he spoke
the cocks that crowed.

'Ah my friends, my relatives,
crow not too much,
not too continous, without
stoppages and rests,
nor with the volume that you
crow now.
For soon
your brilliant crowing will
after the first wave of
enthusiasm be
a common sound,
a jarring sound,
and you throats will be hoarse
and day as all days turn
from the first brilliant spurt
to day of drear.'