Yoga

For nothing other than

The journey of self discovery

Will the wandering of  night contain me

To the seat of day

Sometimes I ask myself

Was it father or mother or plant

That left me to follow the roots

To the center of my mind?

I never tire of coming or going

I never weary of being or non-being.

Nothing explains how to know where to go

One follows heart on the middle road

Pleasured by something so small as the sky

Kundalini with cobra’s eye

Watching how the luster of moon

Pulled me through the root of time.

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Assistant Ed.: Stephanie Sefton/Ed: Bryonie Wise