Om_Yoga_Magazine__November_2017

om spirit

I’ve been away, too long.

This body is, unyielding and tight.

Every stretch, is a lesson.

Every breath, is a fight.

I’m, frustrated, with my muscles.

I’m, angry, with my hips.

This mind is racing.

But thoughts are trapped,

Behind these English lips

Stiff and broken, tired,

The shoulders cry out for relief

The joints are shouting messages

Of doubt and fear and grief,

Of late nights, early mornings,

Of fights, and tears and woes

These stresses manifest themselves

In pinched, unstable toes

Inhale: I don’t want to meet this world

Exhale: with hate and greed

Inhale: my body and soul were meant

Exhale: for a different creed

Inhale: I honour the light, the love, the truth, the beauty and peace,

Exhale: That exists in you and I, and all, our heart’s release.

Inhale: The universe exists in you, as it exists in me

Exhale: how privileged we are to be alive with time to ‘be’

Inhale: I reach for the sky, I fly

Exhale: my roots to the floor

Inhale: I twist and turn and find,

Exhale: a body I adore

This body that has, carried me

As I have changed, matured

This body that has felt me break

And lovingly endured

The tears of a life well lived are shed

Light pulses through my bones,

And coming back to the mat now feels, a lot like, coming home.

Namasté

A poem by Becci Smith

Coming back to the mat