Everyday Om

The television is going loud.

Kitchen lights buzz, bright as comets,

light-bees in my head.

I’m washing dishes to find calm and peace,

my friend-element water

clearing and caressing.

Solace.

I’m longing for willow trees

when I hear a low sound

like Tibetan monks chanting

Om

It goes on and on.

Amazed, I seek out the source,

then almost laugh.

The dishwasher is rumbling on,

sending a seed syllable into my bones.


Thank you, I think, for this gift.

Om is everywhere.

Advertisement