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April 21, 2014

The Stain on the Yoga Studio’s Ceiling. ~ Michael Mark {Poem}

 Screen Shot 2014-04-20 at 11.09.08 PM

It makes me feel dirty.

In a factory I’d excuse it,

but here?

 

I reselect my spot

to erase it from my consciousness.

I settle into my warm up.

 

It looks at me, an eye

with a hairy brown pupil.

 

I go inward.

 

As we raise our Steeple Mudra

to the sky it is a dark cloud.

 

I lift my gaze up in Cow.

It is a butcher.

 

In Triangle, I point to it.

A warning.

 

During Supine Twists, I try

to kick it off the ceiling.

 

I bristle at bowing before it

in Humble Warrior.

 

As my yoga teacher spreads my

third eye open in Savasana

 

I see it is a stain.

 

My negative perceptions

are replaced

by acceptance.

 

Still, I’ll mention it

on the way out.

 

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Editor: Jenna Penielle Lyons

Photo: Wikimedia Commons 

 

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