Forget about
the mountains and the sun
salutations;
sometimes, just the fact that
a morning
could follow at all
from the depths
of last night
already feels like
a pretty huge stretch.
How
and why fleshy
orange crests horizons
is a posture
these bodies aren't built
to know,
though we practice
like a guru possessed.
But who among us,
all the while,
isn't posed
as a child—lying
doubled-over prone
in pursuit
of what wisdom is held
in our breath
from our
birth until our death?
