Yesterday
I needed
To feel
The ground
Solid
And deep
Under
My feet.
I needed
To feel
My legs
Solid
And strong
On top of
My mat.
And when
My legs
Felt weak
Yesterday
I needed
To feel.
And when
The ground
Felt
Shaky
Today
I needed
To need.
And it was ok
Because I’d practiced.

I found
My mat,
Today,
Squeezed
Between
Housework
And workwork
In a space
Too small
And too quick
To expect
The twists
And bridges
And wheels
That unfolded there.
I smiled,
At the end,
Folding forward
In thanks
For the unexpected
That shows up
In the in-betweens.

The rhythm comes
Easily tonight,
With a day’s-worth
Of doings
And thinkings
And feelings
Looking to settle.
And the breath
Shares the beat
With the body
On repeat -
Pulling,
Folding,
Melting,
Breathing.
I pull.
I fold.
I melt.
And breathe.
And breathe.
And breathe...
I’m all colored bits
Bound in wax paper
When your voice
Whisks me back -
“Baby?”

Today
That space
I seek
And find
Was slippery
And sloped.
I found myself,
Over
And over,
Sliding forward
Into
Tomorrow,
Into
Next month,
Into
And Then
Into
What If
And
One Day.
But
When I let go
I found,
At the bottom,
The sought.

When the time
Arrived,
I didn’t.
I made an appearance -
A quick Hello -
Then scampered off
To solve Problems,
To anticipate Issues,
To recall Details
My mind provided
For careful
(And Urgent!)
Examination.
My body stayed,
Working
Excuses into
Polite Conversation.
Just in case.
And in the end,
It left alone.

I woke
Hesitant
To do so,
Not quite ready
For the next
To be now.
Yet
So it was,
(And so I woke)
And so it kept
Being.
Now.
And now.
And now.
And now.
And then,
In a moment,
Still and shadowed,
I caught up.
And woke again.

Today I practiced
All
The most Important
Details.
I breathed,
And I felt
Myself
Breathing.
I listened,
And I heard
Myself
Living.
And I planted my feet,
And I reached
Way past
Where I usually
Stop.
And later,
In his eyes,
I saw what
I practiced for.

I watch
The words
Dance
Full grown,
Well mannered
From your lips,
And the threads
They call
To existence
Weave
Perfectly
Together
A start,
An arc,
A seamless
Resolution
Where worlds
Spin
With sense.
And I am
Lonely
Shrouded
In your tapestry
Clinging to my ******
Beneath.