Eye Of Eternity Poem by gershon hepner

Eye of eternity,
striving to hear
of love and fraternity,
cold and austere.
Despair exponential,
stuck fast in a groove,
makes hoping tangential
to what won’t improve.
Time-frozen like Pinter
and Beckett, we dwell
where life’s always winter
with snowballs in hell.

Perhaps the eternal,
won’t draw to a close,
inflamed and infernal,
while we, comatose,
still restlessly dreaming
before we awake
to the error of scheming
to mend what we brake,
make efforts with relish
to not disavow
what man can embellish:
the here and the now.


This is a revised version of the following poem:

With the eye of eternity,
who wants to hear
of love and fraternity,
cold and austere?
For Beckett and Pinter
the world where we dwell,
eternally winter,
eternally hell,
despair exponential
that's stuck in a groove,
makes hoping tangential
to what won't improve.

Perhaps the eternal
should draw to a close,
a nuisance infernal,
Now, near-comatose,
we all try to relish,
and not disavow,
what man can embellish,
the here and the now.

Sarah Lyall writes about David Hare in 'And Another Thing From David Hare' (NYT, February 7,1999) . The author of 'Plenty, ' 'Skylight, ' 'Racing Demon, ' 'Murmuring Judges, ' 'Pravda, ' and 'The Absence of War, he is now completing a new play, 'Via Dolorosa, ' in which he takes the part of 33 people he encountered in Israel, from a family of West Bank settlers to a Palestinian politician in Gaza. Sarah Lyall writes:

'Under the eye of eternity–the austere and cold eye with which Beckett looks at the world– it's true that the story always ends the same way: we all die, and we may well turn out to be meaningless.' Hare flashes an electric grin and looks anything but depressed about his, and everyone else's, potential meaninglessness. 'I hate looking at the world that way. All my temperamental bias has been away from that view. I believe that the struggle is worthwhile.'


2/11/99,4/26/07,1/18/09