Hey there,
Man with porches that look over
Colorado mountain sunsets
or sunrises, I don't know which.
I got my yoga groove back
so happiness and freedom are mine again.
Regardless of space and time
reality. Got my feet on the ground and my head
is in the practice.
Searching for the wisdom
living within the patterns of movement
body and breath.
Living the opposites that are given to me
by the universe, silent.
The universe, from which I cannot be separated.
Is it vast and uncaring? Am I?
Smiling the smile of non-fear.
My favorite teacher says that it is not important that your teacher thinks he is a guru, it is only important that you think he is a guru.
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3 comments:
Oh my, whoever you are, this is delightful.
Writing is not always so shtirasukha.
warmly,
Thank you for the amazing compliment. Richard Freeman will have that effect on the brain! I read your blog on David Foster Wallace. I too was a fan and was sorry to hear of his unbearable sadness and passing. Literature will be a little less challenging without him.
It's true.
I listen to the Y-M as a lullaby, really. It's like having the sweetest parts of the practice sung to me... I guess, seeing as how it renders you poetic, you feel similarly.
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