Om Poem

My life is a tome

Written in om

 

My body is a home

Built out of om

 

My skull is a dome

Resounding with om

 

Om is where the heart is

There’s no place like om

 

My brain turns to foam

When I chant the word om

 

When I slip on the loam

I’m righted by om

 

The light in the gloaming

Is the sun’s way of om-ing

 

No matter how far I roam

I always end up back om

 

 

M. Bogen
2010