Tips of fingers sing
temples awake, deeper
inside,ylang-ylang melts
shoulders, spine, in
pools of flesh, floor
Beads of scented pillow
cool all vision black
cocooned in temple
body enshrined,
flowing open toward
ungated exchange
Thunder roars bliss
deeper, still, gray
peace in slow vibration
clouds, full above,
within, we are soothed,
soothers in still grace.
-Heather Hunter Berg,
May 23, 2008, 11:30am, after yoga with Tataya
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1 comment:
I've had the wonderful experience of taking Tataya's class; your words are a beautiful painting of that experience! Unfortunately I don't live in Lincoln, so my Tataya-classes are spaced far apart; but when I visit I'll be there!
beautiful poem!
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