Drift Away with a New Sleepy Tuesday Afternoon Bikram Poem

this one's about the experience of floating into deep, deep space during the break between the standing and floor series...

Filament

arms arch upward fingers interlace

of course

I’m stretching of course it’s early morning

summer here upon us

arriving

curved upward haze behind a building

announces

the day coming. of course

I haven’t got my mind yet

haven’t quite found where it’s hiding.

this is supposed to be a day,

a beautiful life,

a wild and precious life,

a centered, kept, contained

moment held.

I’m floating elsewhere

away for now, back in five minutes

that little hand-drawn sign swinging from a string

pastel and ink, dream-like messaging inescapable

if not caught and held, perhaps gone to the wind’s

carefree moving mind-path: the breeze.

surely a life is not a day,

a day is not a moment of course

it can all boil down to just the one

split second,

one big break,

one forgetting,

slip,

breath,

one long fall toward failure.

Enter the room.

Set down your old mat,

bones, songs, fidgets, fears,

expectations, set your old life down

and unravel your very life-threads, your five minute signs, strings,

etched maps for knowing where you are.

Unroll your mind you can’t even find

and be somewhere: only here

is where you are

a corpse, body breathing in place

a two-minute savasana

floating filament thoughts out

the twisting of an untied cord,

rivets disentangling, notion-rope come undone

working loose our own bodies,

lives, days, pulling out the stitches

so that we are in fact of course

nowhere at all.