Emmanuel George Cefai

Gold Star - 34,589 Points (12th March 1955 / Victoria, Gozo)

Charts Through The Star Clad Leaves - Poem by Emmanuel George Cefai

1-chants coming through
the star clad leaves
the earth, this earth
this soil
mountains miniature in
great reverse...
amanuensis of the clouds
of varying themes
souls of laceration
hungry souls
too aged
too aged
to utter their sufferings
the penance for their ways
the spring and root
of beauty grown in them
and yet
still growing.
2-soul that bewildered
in the throes of suffering
here and there
wild and raw
red tooth and paw
roams as a bird caged:
the sage man passed by
and he uttered peace
'let's finish wars
we've had to much'
'souls are suffering
for wars
let us dispose of this
this way
and go in peace.'
more than once the sage
fell silent.
3-silicon of dust that fell
in graves
thought that grew spiraling
as small trees
with fingers protruding
the branches of the soul
round and round
up and up
whilst the heart
there be too much of dust
that's fallen in the graves:
dust will not speak nor grieve
nor will lament.
4-beauty is its eyes
there be a scent of slime
with other scents:
a scent of must
musty, musty, aged.
there is a suffering in
each scent.
Though bewildered and
the scents are flourishing
the waters in the clouds
be gathering
to pour and lave
this strife-torn earth
in suffering
continual pains of fading
and of rare childbirths.
beauty is its eyes
5-5-there be a tempo in
the eyes of Age:
it does not hurry
nor tarry overmuch
it knows its balance
it knows its ways
and tempo
there be cunning days
where the sun shines not
or a little shines
the clouds take over
and lessened be the reign
of wild raw Beauty
here your Soul burns
in anger
yet here
you will the language
of suffering and shades
of sadness one
after another, marching
the breast will yearn
and heavy feel
there's the loaded Soul
in suffering
many a twist and turn.
7-at a right angle to
the other emotions
saw I emotions marching
they were feeding
on wild raw honey from
flowers varied
their time was coming:
the waters sacred in
the sacred phial
they churned restless, unseen
by curious eyes
the emotions were
at a right angle
walking, turning.
I saw souls lost and
with eyes confused
their ways were turning.
for Suffering turned their
the other way not to witness
more suffering.
so the sage Owl cried
and it was deep stark night.
8-where you be leaning?
the bird hooting
through the free skies
its bosom rise in pride
as it unchallenged and
undisturbed it flew:
these be the verses
that were made for chanting:
in the sacred temples with
the censer burning smoke
to the roof tapestried:
these be the verses
that for incantations
were made
even before crowds, whole
rose the erect Poet Seer
and chanted
with him
the crowd chanted.
9-that was too much
too much
the fire
right in the middle
and the midst
of the sage sacred bush was
a flame up leapt!
the fires crackle
the bush is fading
and sickly scents arise
the guillotine and the
towards the sea-shore
the half-dressed skeleton
they saw it running.
10-too much
too, too much
too much for chanting:
the waters rose and danced
'Suffering be hard but not
found wanting.
Its promises it keeps'
rose the Voice of the Sage
and then he stopped, muted.
whole, whole blocks of
fainting fading
the waters that were clear
all became sacred:
the sacred Poet-Seer had waved
his magic wand
over them bending.
11-'You must keep the rhythm'
there was a Voice
I turned: from where?
The Muse?
The thoughts raced my
brain and
racked it.
the heavens are already
waxing dark in the face
the clouds
with rain waters filling:
the first thundering
the first lightning
the times are awkward my Monsignor:
the times be awkward.
the lime's thickening
in the waters that before
were yellow-golden clear.
Before? Before? Before?
Times moves with Motion
they make Evolution
corolin denko
de sospirin tenko.

Topic(s) of this poem: chant royal, night

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Poem Submitted: Wednesday, April 25, 2018

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