High tide in yoga class

photoHigh tide in yoga class

Now it’s time to let go of anything that
does not serve you, she says
I sink into the stretch

Breathe in peace
Breathe out pain
Harp music: a lullaby melody

Hush a bye, don’t you cry…
I hear my long-ago self crooning,
round baby latched to my breast

Blacks and bays, dapples and grays
All the pretty little horses
When you wake, we’ll have cake…

Oh, I feel such an ache
Joy and despair, inseparable twins
Brightness paired with brackish dark

Time to curl up, like a fetus
a reminder, she says, that we can always
begin anew

Anew floods me. It’s high tide in Ohio
deep-etched patterns melt as awareness swells,
crests—suddenly, I taste salt

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