I hear it.
Over my oceanic Ujjayi breathing
and Krishna Das’ Hanuman.
Someone has the sniffles
in the studio.
This is self absorbed evil.
Yes, I know expectations
can make you so stiff a cat-cow
can snap you
like vegan peanut brittle.
we are all here for our mutual
emotional, spiritual and physical
and the sign outside the studio says:
Take care of your colds at home
to take care of your fellow yogis here.
We inhale one sacred breath,
we exhale one purifying Om
by the germ of deceit.
I meditate on honoring the light in me
and the light in you, Sick One,
but it is sludgy with mucus.
In Savasana I feel a tickle.
But I am not laughing.
© Michael Mark
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