Yoga

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When everyone is calling you beautiful
it’s that much easier
to fit
invisibly
between all those letters.

If everyone knows
what sacred really is…
then it isn’t.

Green grass
yellow sun
summer air
thick as steam
uneven surfaces
sweat
more sweat
bugs
mat so hot
it almost burns…
yoga.

It’s always the last time
for me
and
it’s always the first time.
Never the same twice.
Ever entering
a mystery
where body
soul
and will
make what others
call
yoga.

Everywhere we go
an impression is made,
what I leave on my mat
I hope
was everything
that all of me could say
before I became
what I was changing
in
to.

 

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About skymeetingtheground

Healer, poet, author, yogi, single father...outdoorsy guy.
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