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One Man's Answer to a Question Baba Often Asks

Baba: “Are you happy?”
Francis Brabazon: "When I consider how my days are spent
  In company of God—singing His praise
  First in my head and then in written lays
  For other lovers and sweet friends' enjoyment;
  I wonder at such fortunate employment.
  Such happy days, such happy, happy days
  Cut in the fresco of beforetime maze
  Called living—sure, clear, without argument.
  These are the days that in the years to come
  Men will inquire of—probing every word
  He spoke, seeking the meaning of each look
  And gesture recorded; some this, and some
  That, will find—some agreement, some discord:
  Some will build churches, some will write a Book!”


Come Sun and Son


Come Sun and Son into our heart,

Come primal Word and glowing Rose,

And break our vanity and pose

Of I and mine—our lives—apart.

Darkness, by darkness, never knows

Itself as dark—its utter night;

Only the dawn the gladdening light

Of morn and noontide shows.

Yours is the streaming beauty bright

That keeps our lives, in our heart sows

That beauty which the fairer grows

The more we feed it with our sight.

Come Sun and Son and golden Rose

Unfold your Glory in our heart—

But, so to bloom means you depart

And bring your Singing to a close.

—Francis Brabazon




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