Yoga
For nothing other than
The journey of self discovery
Will the wandering of night contain me
To the seat of day
Sometimes I ask myself
Was it father or mother or plant
That left me to follow the roots
To the center of my mind?
I never tire of coming or going
I never weary of being or non-being.
Nothing explains how to know where to go
One follows heart on the middle road
Pleasured by something so small as the sky
Kundalini with cobra’s eye
Watching how the luster of moon
Pulled me through the root of time.
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Assistant Ed.: Stephanie Sefton/Ed: Bryonie Wise
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