Sometimes we forget
that there is earth cradling us underfoot,
cushioning our falls.
Our attempts
to reach the sky.
Category: poems
Indecisive tides
Though we were before
never in the same tide.
We shared.
Does this mean we’re worth the history?
Our ties parted all those years ago-
a ribbon cut on a whim.
Though that ribbon was crafted from blood,
it was deprived of oxygen-
no breath in it to give us life.
So thin that it could not keep its colour.
Ruby veins trickling away down the drain,
becoming water.
Where we raced forward over towering waves
the crescendo of rapid currents
ripping through infallible memories.
Despite them-
we acquiesced to separation.
Losing sight of one another,
drifting without care in casual opposition.
A disheartened ocean.
Now suddenly,
out of pale tides-
your hand reaches out to mine.
So close that I could catch it.
But when I stop and think,
mellow currents still interrupt
bitter with distilled poison.
Jagged breaths choking me
until my chest threatens collapse.
And though I’m sorry for it,
and though now
I can wish you happiness..
I still float further away.
Because I can’t help but think
that to reach out to you …
could not possibly be worth it.
Catastrophe
Tend delicately to your castle garden
where feathers grow like rare flowers
out of peppered breaths.
Practice and al…
Practice and all is coming.
Sri K. Pattabhi Jois
I looked at you
When I looked at you
I saw baby flames torrenting
down your hardened cheeks,
where once there were tears.
I guess you shaped your armor well.
We both knew you needed it.
Has it changed you?
Do your feet still shuffle dusty across the path?
I’ll still be here waiting for you,
whatever you decide.
My eyes longing to be seen by yours.
My skin shaped for your hug.
My fingers impatient to intertwine-
to weave in all of you.
Don’t leave me waiting too long.
Without grace
Yesterday I fell
without grace onto my head
during yoga, ow.
Tell me, what i…
Tell me, what is it you plan to do
with your one wild and precious life?
Mary Oliver
Once you were sweet
When was it that your
sweet disposition gave way
to brutality?
We the movement makers
For us
Every inhibition
leaves us deafened;
Prisoners of trepidation.
For us
Every movement
traces blood;
Fused to the soul.
Untangle this havoc.
Allow movement
to soothe heartache and
reveal resilience,
invincible.
Where experience might coalesce
with the physical body.
For us,
the movement makers.
Dancers go
Nerves foiling in her belly.
She warms her muscles
on the dark cement.
Listening to a foreign tune of
casted movement she will never learn.
A hushed moment-
a pause, a breath. And then
Hands clapping, the relief of five
as they move away from the light.
And the curtain closes.
The time ticked away,
she is given her go.
24 minutes to be truthful
She is herself, unhindered.
Impossible to hide,
for this one fleeting moment.
The muted curtain revealing,
as familiar music echos in her head.
The arrival of lights.
Whether she is ready or not,
she makes poetry with her body.
She dances.
Some call it red 