Tell me what you think of this... I've been thinking about this poem, which will be the first in the series:
Adho Mukha Svanasana--Downward Facing Dog
When I was four, I'd play
with dad's ocilloscopes,
energy made visible, pictures
of sound. I'd turn the knobs
until the line would angle up,
an inchworm, and I'd become
a god of volts and ohms. In this pose
that energy is in me. The legs,
like oaks, desire what is earthly,
all their secret life beneath the skin.
The spine spurns the mundane,
while the head, though distant
as the moon, yearns only to rest
itself against the solid knees.
2 comments:
This poem, even more than others, makes me realize how much I count on being able to look at pictures of the pose to illustrate the words of the poem.
Oh dear. Perhaps that is not good, as far as the poem is concerned. In the actual book, I will not have photographs. I want to get an artist, a yoga practitioner, to make line drawings.
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