The last word remains
Let it be “om”
The “love” words don’t transition
And feelings die with the brain
Such a shame
They cannot be carried over
So very strange
That what a person’s living for,
Be it wealth, passion, or fame
Ends up all the same in “om”
Like the orange sun sandwiched
Between two megalith structures
Squeezed below the horizon
For others more westerly to see
The glow is all one day if I follow
Imagine I am following it around
Or left behind in darkness
It would all come down to love
The feeling that warms our lives
“Om”-lessness would be nothing
If I cannot hold you in my arms
Like everything that temporarily stays
If I can’t find my way back “om”
It just wouldn’t be fair.
February 9, 2021
Copyright © 2021 by David Barry Temple. All rights reserved
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