In this section we focus on this remarkable last collection of Brabazon’s poetry. It was published posthumously in 1988 …
The young banana plants are birds with green wings rising from the ground;
Such was my spirit when I still thought that beloved God could still be found.
How brave were our flags as we marched out in the first dawn!
Now we are men bowed in the dust – objects of scorn.
I once strayed away from myself and it took me a million years
To find Him again; and to find that I am but a shape of tears.
I will not cease desiring to please that one who has won my heart,
Until His Grace shatters the silence held captive in my art.
The ache of separation is permanent.
There is no point in moaning post-wise that
love and the times are out of joint.
What to do with the days? Everyone has work, I alone
Lie by the roadside — the road-mender’s left-over bit of stone.
That day when you first opened your door to me in Love Street!
Your glances were the promise of summer heavy with grapes and wheat.
Spring used to come round each year with its myriad bud-breaking,
And summer ripened the grapes for an abundant wine-making.