Francis Brabazon Poems

Our dropp souls are of the ocean of Truth, their bubbles are bright snares
Which keep us in the sea of illusion playing 'musical chairs.'
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People are man and man is people.

Their bones are the structure of the Universe.
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Back in Australia, the most East of the West,
John Kerry continued the exile he had begun so and so
many millions of lives ago through his own act of waking up
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Dawn is a friend who comes to rouse the lover from grief,
And enemy, for from his pain he wants no relief.

Without separation's pain how can he be aware
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The world is being run on time, by time, for time, and at no time are we free
Just to sit and enjoy even the outward forms of the Beloved's beauty.
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We have waited all night for you, and now the dawn is come.
From distant places we came — there can be no returning home.
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Once God, that Great Being,
Whose nature is Existence, Knowledge and Bliss, slept.
He was like a man in deep sleep
Who is, but does not know that he is.
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But it is no good talking to you, Baba - you are just too-much love.
Whatever we say, you just smile with your smile of divine kindness
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