Three poems for my yoga mistresses 
upon graduation from the 40 Day Revolution

A Sonnet:  My yoga mistress said to seek my path

My yoga mistress said to seek my path.

My path to happiness: what can it be?

I can’t see my path, since the aftermath.

3 years past, happiness could have found me.

We were on our path, driving towards the sun.

“The last of life for which the first was made,”

was next for us; but the plan was undone.

Instead, a naughty trick on us was played.

And so we hung upon the precipice

until he was gone and I was alone.

The path, you see, went with his exodus.

I was stunned, without a clue, on my own.

So, before our life together, I turned.

To find my own true path, I must relearn.

* * *

Mary Iyengar

Mary Iyengar, can I go for?

Mary Iyengar, you are a star.

Good, good, good, you all are good.

Is it true I really could?

Now, straighten the back and flip the hip

Reach, reach, reach; lengthen tip to tip;

left lower rib meets right outer thigh.

And I am thinking: oh my!

Mary Iyengar, can I go for?

Mary Iyengar, you are a star.

Left hand down and right hand rise—

Breathe, breathe, breathe; I am alive.

Thank you, thank you, Mary Iyengar.

* * *

Call and response

Call and response:

we engage together:

in a partnership.

She asks, we give.

Her voice our guide

to the path within.

Surrounded by heat

attuned to the body,

we find the beat

Teacher and pupil;

back and forth;

give and take.

We breathe in and out.

Conducted, we strive--

all senses alive.

Suddenly, slowly

power surges up

from toe tip to crown.

Downward, then up--

inward, then out--

our hearts soar.

We follow her lead

as the light dims,

there is brightness within.

Our sensei calls to us

every Thursday night

and we respond in kind.

Created at the BOA workshop at Midtown
Duty calls

Every morning at just this hour, they appear

both fulfilling their obligations

to one another.

Traversing the sidewalk, stopping at the trees

gazing at the river, sometimes crossing the footbridge

and becoming miniatures.

In the fall they linger in the park.

breathing the brisk air, kicking the leaves,

staying till it’s almost dark

In winter they hurry

bunched against the wind

focused on the short exercise ahead.

In summer, after they pass by
they take a longer return. Two figures

tethered to each other.

It’s just spring, now, and cold.

There they are again--

She steps out first, they cross

one eyes the light for safety.

the other the grass ahead.

Duty calls.

Mar 31

Morning greeting

One crystal flake falls far apart from another.

This spring weather has weather beaten me.

Or

One crystal flake falls, far apart from another:

winter’s last eyelash kisses before spring

Good morning surprise:  you’re sick. 

Good morning!  The alarm says wakie up.

Lie there, sit up, stretch,

Crack the blinds, rise and shine

wander into the hall, feed the dog;

Wait, news flash: you’re sick.

Switch to denial, brush your teeth,

dress, stare at the dog, consider

if walking her is possible.

Wait, new awareness: 

you have to walk the dog.

Back in the apartment

now, you know you are sick.

Call the boss, outline notes for the sub.

And go back to bed.

Become unaware and sleep.

Until you realize

you need water or ginger ale, or hot tea

Damn, get up, get water and saltines.

Go back to bed. 

Forget the world and sleep.

By sunset, you have managed to avoid

voiding for most of the day.

a puzzle done, a movie watched, soup consumed

and the blinds reveal the rainy, misty day

at an end.  

40 Days to Revolution 4

We are over the top and on the downhill side of 40 days.  This week we have been asked to consider where we need to apply more self-discipline (… this at a time of life for me when I get to loosen up the discipline, live a little).  And we have been asked to consider what we need to let go, excess baggage we need leave behind.  And we have been asked to add a few minutes of meditation to the beginning and end of each day.  It seems push has come to shove and I am going to come up short this week.

Mar 31, this was our morning greeting:

One crystal flake falls far apart from another.

This spring weather has weather beaten me.

or

One crystal flake falls, far apart from another:

winter’s last eyelash kiss before spring.