Poem: Yoga Nature — Crow On The Wire

I do yoga in the autumn woods. 
Nature is my teacher. 
The sky is my Om. 
The soil of the ground, my mat
that I lengthen in an upward dog.

The tree is my pose
that stables my imbalance. 
The black slate is my plank
when I feel weak and unsure. 
The leaves crackle under my feet
as I reverse my warrior.

I skim the stones of mindfulness 
across the shallow creek
of glistening waters. 
I breathe in the scent of pine and maple
with Ujjayi breath. 
I stretch and unwind
under an emerald-blue waterfall
to loosen the tightness
of my grip.

via Poem: Yoga Nature — Crow On The Wire

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