As I perch on blocks upon the floor,
the teacher speaks of the art of sitting—
and the many masters who have shaped his form.
He begins our journey inward
with a gentle roll of the shoulders—up, back, and down—
then slow movements of the head in every direction,
aligning the torso before we settle.
And then, we follow the breath.
This simple act places me firmly
in this moment, in this space.
I begin to breathe:
in… and out…
in… and out…
My mind, once a jumble of a thousand thoughts,
begins to soften, to quiet.
And from time to time,
between the storm clouds of my broken heart,
I catch a glimpse
of open sky.
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Beautiful….inspiring
Beautiful poem, Dan, kand the picture is amazing!