Yoga

poem about a yoga lesson in India

YOGA

My flesh lies inert on the mat,
Mind rippling with cool, me an empty
Vessel, a thought-free, barely being self.

You dare me to enter the labyrinth:
The endless knot, no beginning,
No end, the challenge being to
Penetrate the mandala.

As if in the interior of a flower,
Colors enclose me. There are four
Gates, one in each direction, each
Having its own wrathful guardian.

Within this sacred space, even
The inverted poses become possible
Without pain. Gently you position my
Limbs, easing the pull on my senses.

I feel the play of powers as charkas
Vibrate like plucked harp strings.
How many hours did we spend
Together to release the heart,
Returning it to a realm of balanced
Form where we move freely in
A larger light?

Now stable as a mountain, I am
No longer troubled by earth’s
Spinning. In a universe perfected,
Mind, a festival of stillness, breathes
Oneness with body, space and time.