as a Pisces, I am swimming upstream,
the salmons last run.
fighting, pulling to grip those soft
rocks beneath.
those beasts that keep some stuck.

salmon are based in diversity
needing to have a wide gene
pool, as their kin die quickly
from those rocks.
getting stuck, swimming around and around…

insanity defined,
and time doesn't stop.
so, to the work.

swimming up stream,
dedicated to being a mother.
creator, incubator.
children
stored in the belly of the beast.
preparing to break free,
be set alive, to roam free.
the wombs embrace,
the face of LOVE.

currents of the calls
are so loud, rushing past my gills.
I feel the whooshing sound,
the pressure bearing down, taunting
me out.
calling me out… are you sure,
are you confident?
constant tests to check
and check and check for missteps.
ones that feel out of step.
no more time for those.

the path is clear,
yet
the water is cold,
bearing down on my scales built,
molded for this.
built in this system of birth and death.
choosing each step from above.

below, here I feel at home and
I feel ME breaking out.
she's broken out, there will be clouds,
rain, thunder all the things.
let
it  be.
and the beast is free, she
has descended, dug down deep,
anchored, prepared for reception.
just like the trees, they grow so well
with others.
interdependently nourishing the diversity.

Heart broken open
Time warpping,
Quickenings of the beat.
What is needed
Comes
And heals the wear,
Mends the tear of selves
And creates new tissue,
Then is released.

Soaring on the wind,
Or the waves, its been
Days, my heart maintains its mend.
Its been strengthened
And its reflecting its voice.
Recklessly disciplined,
Closely monitoring choice,
Aligning each step with my beat.
I know the tune, now.
I hum the songs of my heart.
Im just getting them out.
They've been buried
Under mounds and mounds.
Pounds of self doubt.
Concerned if you'd like my song.
I had it all wrong.
That love, that pair,
Is already in here.
Balance is me here, now.
Teetering in and out,
Still fighting
To share my heart out loud!!!

Things keep changing
My desire waning,
Seems like the work is
Better done alone.

Free of those attachments
Free from the madness,
The fog that sits,
The love explodes!

The abode of my heart
Grows, stronger, with each step
Towards independence-
To be prepared to advance to
The next step.

The steps home..

The warrior blood
Runs thick
It shifts heavy feet,

Ones that drag, scrape,
Slowly. Moving with steady
Force.

Ones that are grounded
Rooted, fed from systems below.
Sprawl overhead, capture
The light from above.
Equality undetstood.

Ones that reach through time
Bringing souls back,
Resurrecting mind lost,
Or mistrekked.
Usually there are many there to grip,
Begging for another chance.
Slipping through strong hands,
Paitiently awaiting return.
Creating again.

Warriors dont miss home.
Theirs a path of freedom,
Birth is just a part of the dance.
Home, branching far from
The start, desire to roam,
And be healed.
Paths chosen before.
Relation written in stone,
Instant awareness when
Home is felt, whether there
Or somewhere else, in the
Eyes of the tribe of warriors.

Standing strong, side by side.
Recognition of pride
In my warrior ways.
My battle days, my

White flag moment.

A warriors surrender to fate.
Submittal to the date,
The times current.
The tick of time,
The pause of seconds,
Where time dissolves.
That pause, time stalls
It rests, in the dark
To prepare for the tock.

Tick... tock...

Warriors know how to bow.

Gracefully head down,
Arms stretched out
Prepared to receive the
Pour down.
The love abound, the
Embrace of rebirth.
Of the ticks
Forcefully leading, pushing
Expanding towards  the tocks.

Tick ... tock ...

It wont stop,
Now is the time, warriors,
Stand up!
Arms up!
Receive the down pour of
Love.
Open your heart, feed
The systems below
So new life continues to grow and
Thrive.
Bear down, it can be found. Its
You, warrior.
You are the love.

if I could tell you
that I miss you,
I would. if the words could come out.
if I knew how.
or why, is it your smell,
its like mine. I just know it well.
and I miss you.

thoughts of you, thoughts
is what I miss. the kisses of
my thoughts of you.
the tenderness.
I layed caressed by your essence
for hours, I just miss it.

the way we collapse
and mend, then again
its the thoughts I miss,
and the walk. the bounce in your step.
like we walked those steps,
together and alone.
we seem used to all this,
what is this unions depth?
I know if I ask I will see it,
always on time.

I miss you, your smile,
my memories of it.
of the way your lips twist.
to hear them say my name
to call me, I almost cant take it.
imagination running free.
visualizing free, I will arrive.
youll be by my side, like all these times.
if our hips miss this trip around, I imagine
in the forest we'll be found,
bound, floating over a covered ground
shifting with the current, the waves
of us.
at home, walking each other home.

though I cant help but wonder
what would be found if we buried
down, deep into the core,
I'd want more, and more. I need years
to unload. hours upon hours of me.

we miss this, this trip.
Im sure its just memories, thoughts
of the past.
I just miss you.

the commercialization of yoga
is unfortunate, it will keep
many of its participants
truly from experiencing what
the practice can reveal.

like how to balance.

the steps before balance is sought after,
the ones that prepare for the posture,
those steps matter.
each one drawing nearer,
providing clearer paths.
each one climbing higher,
marking the journey to Self.

once balance has been decided upon,
the sounds of bare feet
meet the glance, awareness of stance.
foot planted firmly, toes spread out.
really feeling, holding, curling into ground.
grounding, roots searching for the water
they were promised.

the flow balance offers, it must be fought for.
when alone, on one foot, toe, on the palms of hands,
balance takes constant,
minor
adjustments.
over and over again.
eyes focused only on a single point,
constantly adjusting the foot,
working the muscles of the journey to
balance. the fight of the sages.

constant minor adjustments
achieve balance.
adding just a little bit, here or there.
right at the point of breaking down.
right then, make another minor
change, shift the weight yet again
and create more balance.

thats all it is, just minor adjustments
until the pose is achieved,
then the mind sees it controls matter
and the mat feels like home.

To the rarest of the women
That my eyes had to behold
An undercover secret
That's worth more than any gold
  
So priceless, you can't find her
(or paint colors 'round her soul)
On a black and white impression
'til she's staring back stone cold
  
Moan, Mona Lisa moan
I'll rock you back and forth 'til dawn
Just to make that tone
Moan, Mona Lisa moan
I will be your daddy
When your daddy's dead and gone
Moan, Mona Lisa moan
My arms will be your cradle
To comfort you from harm
Moan, Mona Lisa moan
Now that I've declared my love
No more to be alone
  
You're under an umbrella
And a sweater keeps you warm
But, more than any rain could fall
My tears, so filled with joy
  
I haven't any joker friends
or live beside a mall
No, all I have are eyes for you
on which they do adore
  
Moan, Mona Lisa moan
..I will rock you all night long
If you make that tone
Moan, Mona Lisa moan
No need to call the painter
When your daddy's home
Moan, Mona Lisa moan
Now that you're beside me
I will keep you safe from harm
Moan, Mona Lisa moan
Come and let me comfort you
Be inside my arms
And moan, Mona Lisa moan
Mona Lisa moan