Photo: Takkk. Art Direction: The Magazine of Yoga.
Poet in residence
BY MAGAZINE COLUMNIST CARYN MIRRIAM-GOLDBERG
Always a lost limb – the bent leg misplaced
from gravity, or maybe dreaming it’s a young
aspen tree in high summer, the dappled grass
broken with Indian paintbrush and
anxious woodpeckers on their way back up.
Meanwhile, the straight leg must carry
the body, a long pole holding up
the tent of this life, a quiet workhorse.
It sways in the field with the force
of all the history it must plow out from
the new fallen snow in the metallic blue
of the winter sky.
Come inside, says the tree of the body,
to where the palms press into the mirror
of each other. Come here, says the spine,
balancing its river length along banks
that keep shifting with each breeze.
Let the forest simply be its own cover
where all in refuge can return to the wild.
For many of us, the trees are changing now. For all of us, we are always changing. After standing in tree for a while on each side, try one of these:
Write about your life as a forest or your body/self as a tree moving through seasons and age. See what comes.
What does it mean to return to the wild for you? Let your bones answer.
Using the phrase, “Come here,” begin writing. What is ready to come, and where is here?
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.