Photo: Shahab Maghami
Poet in residence
BY MAGAZINE COLUMNIST CARYN MIRRIAM-GOLDBERG
When I’m hovering above the earth,
suspended on the mercy of the forearms,
the toes holding up the steel of the legs,
when I’m breathing hard for my life,
when I’m sure my core will collapse
into the soft, waiting lake of the floor,
when I’m here, trying so hard
not to try, my heart slamming against
its cage, blind to where the opening is,
my shoulders holding out for mercy
there is only this – doing what I can’t do
when the strength that feeds on itself
looks out across the open harbor
of the room, no longer confused or weary,
and turns into a herd of happy antelope,
a gaggle of children pouring in the front door
to find the birthday cake, a forest
of cottonwood leaves and freedom
opening, closing, opening, closing
in the ocean we call the sky.
Reprinted with permission of the author
from Landed (Mammoth Publications, 2009).
Next time you’re doing a forearm plank, think about how your body is hovering — grounding in and lifting from the strength in your arms, core and legs.
Write about what parts of you feel freedom and what parts are in struggle.
You might even imagine animals or other images representing those parts of your strong body.
Beginning a writing practice? Getting started, groundrules to free you, and podcasts of other writing prompts. Visit Caryn’s Write From Your Life page (http://carynmirriamgoldberg.wordpress.com/write-from-your-life/)
We may publish any content, comments or ideas sent to us.
Name may be withheld by request.
© 2011, The Magazine of Yoga, LLC.