Sunday, December 19, 2010

Yoga Poem #2

Yoga Poem #2


Downward dog indeed.
Make the arse the apex,
dig in your toes, and put
that nose near the ground.
Hey, sniff your way to namaste.

Don't look at your neighbor's
ass. You're not traveling
in a pack. In down-dog,
your body and the Earth
make a triangle pointing
toward the sky
and Orion's dog
eternally faithful.

Butt in the air,
you are undignified
and proud both
at once. Your shoulders
ache. They're holding
up your lower floors,
something they're
not used to.

You wish to lie
down like a tired
hound.


Copyright 2010 Hans Ostrom

Yoga Poem #1

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

"On the Sea," by John Keats