Yoga Dream. ~ Michael Mark {Poem}


It begins with
you, stepping on my mat

and me,
forcing an enlightened smile

to cover my seething.

We all inhale three cleansing breaths,
boats moaning in the fog,
to bring us to our intention.

Your exhales come out of me,
raw, hungry.

I am the table top, you are the legs.
You are the cat, I am the cow.

In plank, I push you out of my mind.

What comes out is me.
You stay still.

The mirror reflects
my hand reaching skyward,

on the earth.

The strain you feel is mine.

Sweat drops mingle
and form a peace sign then

the Vitarka mudra of teaching transmission,

then Ganesh.

Eyes close, in savasana,
on a face I don’t recognize.

Tibetan prayer flags
fly over the dark room.

108 Namastes
from one
single breath.


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Cathy Mar 13, 2014 6:25am

I love this Michael. It's so amazing what you can do to the English language, to twist and turn it about a subject I love – yoga. Our thoughts pour out of your words!

Helene Bludman Mar 11, 2014 3:55pm

As an occasional practicer of yoga I appreciate the imagery in this wonderful poem. Michael Mark is masterful at finding spare and evocative words that fit together so artistically.

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Michael Mark

Michael Mark bows to all his Teachers. He is a hospice volunteer and long distance walker. His poetry has been published in Red Booth Review,Every Day Poets, Scapegoat, Camel Saloon, OutsideIn Magazine, The Thing Itself, Silver Birch Press, elephant journal, The New Verse News, Word Soup End Hunger and other nice places. He invites you to follow him on @michaelgrow so he can follow you, in case he gets lost.