On this blue sky morning,
moon like a marble boulder
half-exposed in cool river waters,
she glides toward the horizon,
hovering in between the fullness of a redwood and
the stark branches of a zelkova.
Exquisite in morning’s afterglow
from a night spent
lighting the way for us,
pulling back the tide
our delicate underbellies,
the tide rolls in again,
on this late-autumn mid-morning,
when I am
in middle of pigeon pose,
holding space for my wandering thoughts,
let them unfold,
as I sink into pigeon,
before I take flight.
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Editor: Cat Beekmans
Photo Credit: Pixoto
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