Francis Brabazon

(24 January 1907 - 24 June 1984 / London / United Kingdom)

The World Is Being Run On Time - Poem by Francis Brabazon

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.

Each drop-bubble in time is a sphere bounded, but infinite;
So fragile, yet the whole of creation is in it.

It is a mirror, never reflecting truth, but the drop-soul's desires
No matter how deep one dives in the truth-quest or how high one aspires.

Good man, bad man - economy-tailored or king-sized -
Each gazes in his bubble-mirror self-hypnotized.

Since the blows of my will are too feeble to break my looking-glass,
At least, Beloved, let it reflect only your beloved face.

Then, though still in time, I will no longer be a fool
Under time's tyranny, but under your benign rule.

The amazing universe and this beautiful earth will vanish, leaving not a trace behind,
When your glance shatters this so-unbreakable mirror of my mind.


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Poem Submitted: Tuesday, May 15, 2012



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