Soft Clouds Hard Rocks Poem by Emmanuel George Cefai

The willows mourn but do not
Weep
The soft clouds on the hard
Grey rocks
Their shadows cast
And stay in frame.

Cry
Cry
Soul
Your
Time
Has
Come
The
Night
Be
Past
You
Will
Not
Take
Refuge
In
The
Night’s
Deep
No
No
Now
Dawn
Has
Come
Now

Dawn
Has been

Yet
Making
Your
Calculations
You
Choose
To
Let
Off
The
Angst
And
Sorrow
In
The
Heart
Your
Heart
Now
You
Count
Not
Your
Years
They
Be
So
Many
You
Weep
You
Mourn
Of
So
Much
Wastage
You
Cry
You
Cry
But
The
Wise
Heavens
Hear
Not
For
They
Will
Let
You
Cry
Take off
The pain
That
Burdens
And
That
Loads
Your heart.

In the night in the day
Civilization always peers
Attentive:
With God-like eye and
God-like power
With its hand directs and
Moves the traffic of life
And day and night:
Ah! Evolution so requires
And evolution be so sovereign.
I saw hearts pouring out
The soot in them
Soot
That issued as dark botches of
Mourning blood
In the night in the day
As civilization does.
And
Evolution smiled
Sat on her fence
Silent not sulking,
Smiling.

Minarets of talk,
An afterthought.

Calculate, my Monsignor,
Calculate.