There are 196 verses in Patanjali's Yoga Sutras.
Only three of them deal with asanas.
No one teaches yoga
Only three of them deal with asanas.
No one teaches yoga
Learn bending
from her stem,
what the hurricane
cannot crush.
Breathe from the seed.
Abandon every sequence and routine.
Your body is a river of postures
flowing toward the ocean of repose.
Valiant and gentle as an oak,
stand and sway in the breeze
of your own exhalation.
Mind falls like a feather
on your belly.
The estuary of your lungs
ebbing, rising, as you
listen to the moon.
Inhale the night, the emptiness
into your bones.
Feel your ligaments dissolve
into swirling galaxies,
your muscles washed in pure
awareness, rolling out of the sea
in every cell.
A goddess guides you now,
thinking is not required.
Your backbone is her wand of bewilderment.
Your pelvis is her boat, laden
with its cargo of unborn stars.
No creation through the Word,
but an infinitesimal murmuring,
the Godspell of your body,
every molecule a hologram
of the heart.
From the baby’s soft spot in your crown
to the glistening sap root
in your sacrum
runs a hollow nerve that hums
with lightning.
The fire does not burn.
There is no method anymore.
Just follow
the thunderbolt of silence
Om to your toes.
Micro-movements invent themselves
from molten stillness.
Now it is
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