Hours Not Rush Poem by Emmanuel George Cefai

the hours not rush
yet
they still pass...
you
see them together
one after the other
as geese and goats
in a brood the road crossing carefully
one after the other
one after the other
great genius, brightness
of soul, cleverness of
brain, alertness,
visage that changes
you have to decipher it
this Mona Lisa of our speech...
this sadness, this sense of
impending doom,
for
what doom impends not?
arrange, arrange
the verses
they
will auto-arrange turning
on the turn-table of the
emotions:
the hours do not rush
yet they grow feet
the earth rotates
blindly and carefully
select, select
a quatrain or a crop
of verses:
you will see,
you will see....