Thursday, March 11, 2010

With Apologies, from the Bad Poet's Society

There was once a yogini named Cloe

whose postures were really quite showy,

She could revolve a half moon from 11 to noon,

but sitting still made her really quite screwy.

Her teacher spoke of the stillness within,

that when practicing yoga one can always begin

to peel away fluff and return to real stuff,

no effort, no drama, all win.

Cloe listened but to herself she would snicker,

give me bakasana with a side crow kicker.

Her mind did protest: Who am I if not best?

(But already some doubt was a-flicker).

Our true selves, her teacher remarked,

can surely tell light from the dark.

It’s all about presence and not so much pretense,

less effort, less striving, more walk in the park.

So enjoy the mechanics, the poses, the sweat,

but remember these words just in case you forget.

If you dance through life’s forest (no pressure, no contest),

when you reach the far side, your true self you’ll have met.

Cloe nodded - It could have some merit,

to sit quietly pondering this rare bit.

“I like what you’ve said, it’s gone straight to my head.

Now show me that pose nicknamed upside-down ferret.”

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