The Om - Poem by RIC BASTASA

three slices of
fresh philosophy

a half ounce of
law on family

a pinch of a childhood
sour grape

another slice of
sweet lemon at the
age of 16

ground bitterness
like pepper
still hot in my throat

a little milk of
my first love

six of honey from my
college friends

make my salad of
my critical years

i sit on the table
facing an ocean of possibilities

i contemplate of halting
the days

and escape Time
and find refuge in perhaps

Death with an expectation
of A surprise to

Reincarnation, i can
chant for now the Om

i am silent
There is no one Here

It is good sometimes
To be Alone

Holding my Pulse
Listening attentively

If i am still here
If i am myself, My true Self

and no Other.
I am listening. I am listening.


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Poem Submitted: Sunday, July 7, 2013

Poem Edited: Monday, July 8, 2013

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