Harp And The Lyre Poem by Emmanuel George Cefai

Harp and the lyre
A forest on fire
Yet after the lyre
The trees and the forest
No longer on fire

The brick in the wall
Was red
And was mute
And
Dirty with dust of the age.

And yet after the lyre
Its work it did
As washed by storms
Brand new all the leaves
Smiled upon by new dawns.

New dawns!
But
We need to cut through
The sage of cycles
That cuts their serpent hugs on History

But ah! this be not easy
And the most is that the Mind Brain
Reluctant to help
Leaves things as they be.