Om – a poem by Mike Wilson

Om

Blood pulses in time, they say.
I say, What’s this thing called time?

Motion that carries a tune
 
Mind flutters, reed in a saxophone 
of honeyed brandy. 

The string between my forehead 
and my viscera is taut.
       
Love draws a bow across my heart. 


Mike Wilson’s work has appeared in magazines including The Gravity of the Thing, Still: The Journal, Agape Review, Dappled Things, THINK: A Journal of Poetry, Fiction, and Essays, Willawaw Journal, and Amethyst Review. He lives in Lexington, Kentucky