The Field Of Coins Poem by Emmanuel George Cefai

The field of coins
They said
From generation to
Generation
They pointed
‘The field of coins! ’
The generations whirled
Blind-fold and drunk
Together with the
Centuries.

Flowered the crocus
On the soil
Flowered violets
Rare and sparse
Here and there
With the crocuses

So many dug
So many in many
Centuries
No coins below
The soil

Even on the tree boughs
They looked
And in the crevices
And hollows of their
Corked ageing.

Till a Poet-Seer came
He smiled
Up to the heavens
Looked:
Above the soil he stood
The soil of the field of
Coins
Looked up
Right through the
Airspace over the field
The heavens above
And smiled
‘There, ’ pointing to
The Heavens the Poet Seer
‘there be the Field of Coins! ’
And smiled.