Yoga Poem 1: Hanuma

I am no monkey god,

but I am hopeful of magnificence

Hanumanasana the body bends in two;

& I am willing to trust that,

under the right desperation,

I someday will leap the canyon;

Not today. Not with leggings on…

Hanuma the monkey god

knows the depth of deception

knows the self can be a cruel adversary.

The monkey god knows not of his deity

only of his body – asana – posed

on the mortal coil. The monkey god

in desperate attempt to make the jump

is magnificent with Hanumanasana;

the body bends in two.

—ECW

Poem 148

sunday

I don’t shy away from silence
we’re different that way… not better
just different. I wouldn’t dare imagine
what bright white you’re hearing
outthere allalone, with your hands
pressed together—little walls
around a universe just small enough
to understand—I am surely mistaken.

We’re different that way, different enough
to quietly agree on smaller things: weather
changes and fresh cut blooms are best
when we are alone in silence I can hear
the unfolding of infinite petals, each
takes a small insignificant breath before
becoming something actual. You hear
words-not-real-words-the-words-of god.

I don’t have ears for god.
We’re different that way.

Not better, just different… I’m glad.

—ECW