Into The Mountain Ranges Of Fear Poem by Emmanuel George Cefai

Wait.
As from the flying eagle's eyes
Below
The pointed peaks
Jutting
Jut after jut in snow
White as Wisdom
Sad as the Masked Bird
Through the gratings of the heavens
Above the nocturnal star lit
Clouds
Neighing with chill ruthless
Winds
Below:
Smell of molten iron in the airs
Thought is difficult.
Breathing grating.

The Dome of Wisdom down turned
Nervous
It has yellow face: the Face of Fear?
Too much
Too, too much
The Time is come to go…
But:
Wait