Wednesday, November 4, 2009

Headstand Poem

Salamba Sirsasana 1-headstand

The moon swells like a seedpod.
Inside the quiet studio, I take
my aching head into my hands,
fingers web to web. A breath,
and then this awkward frame
ascends, becomes an aspen
flexing in a nonexistent breeze.
Grounded in air, movement merges
with stillness, my ear a vehicle
for surging tides, the galaxies'
faint hum. Everywhere
and nowhere, the worlds
fall away, balanced
on these two arms.

6 comments:

Lou said...

Oh, I love it--just the kind of blend of internal and external I hoped you'd be able to find. Beautiful.

Robbi said...

Thanks! I hope Qarrtsiluni loves it too!

Robin said...

Beautiful! I never thought a headstand could be a magical, almost mystical experience--but it is here!

Robbi said...

Thanks Robin.

gizbot said...

Ah, soft ascent floating asana. Peaceful whole. Lovely.

Robbi said...

Thanks. I am looking forward to writing about that unsupported shoulder stand posture sequence with carnapidasana too.