Yoga Poems

Image

Sojourn

lock
engage
embrace–

pare down
subtract
strip away–

glaze-thin
jewel-like
translucence,
emptiness as form–

crystalize
clarify
distill–

transformer
spindle
vortex–

conflagrate
strike
and burn–

illuminate
shine
cascade–

awaken.

final fling 010

the path as job

this is the job i
assigned myself
long ago–

if not to Love Absolutely
(a Herculean task,
perhaps beyond me in this lifetime),
then at least ahimsa
stepping lightly, as lightly,
as i can.

for there are tiny things, fragile things
that will be crushed,
with a careless act.

i cast my cash as a vote for
ahimsa

with every bite i take,
i am thinking of
ahimsa-

if i touch a child, a cat, a dog, a tree, it is gently
ahimsa

i place my foot
on a forest path,
a city sidewalk,
an asphalt parking lot
lightly, so lightly,
with care.

my voice
can be raised in
laughter and song that is

ahimsa.

{ahimsa is a Sanskrit word meaning “non-harming”}

001

asana, all

pressing palms to the mat,
precious pressure.
where back body meets mat
is where love and fear meet.
eyes closed,
i see inside,
where shadows are lilac and black,
and each inner wheel coruscates
with secret light,
fed with the bellows
of every inhale.
i am totally
the questing roots that push
down from muladhara,
hungry for stability
(still, after all these years),
breaking up the hard ground,
before any seeds can grow.

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Santosha [Contentment] #1

saturday’s
sibilant
silence–
except the silver song of rain–
the arm lifted,
the voice faded.
the dog lifts her head,
concerned,
then drops it on the pillow once more.

Santosha [Contentment] #2
first,
the fear
a painful threat,

and then,
the threat fulfilled.
heaps of
rustling plastic
on the hospital bed–
sterile waste, preserving life,
the tourniquet,
the blue wings of the butterfly needle

and then,
pain
and the urge to cry, to deny,
to pull back and make a fresh start–
when you’re hurting,
there is nothing else–
except the faint possibility
of following your breath
down
all the way,
creating space,
space to stay.

Santosha [Contentment] #3

the wheel turns
always
but
the dance
is creative,
a riotous spin.

walk 016

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