Yoga Poem #1
Before yoga, you
are overwrought.
During yoga you
are wrought--
like iron as it's
pounded on by
a blacksmith . . .
without a hammer.
After yoga, you
are overwrought:
there's a lovely
formlessness to your
to your thinking
as thoughts pass
through, pass by.
Even if it's a
gray day, even if
it's night, you notice
light.
Copyright 2010 Hans Ostrom
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