the yOke of Yoga

yoke of Yoga
follows intuition.

not bind or strain,
contort, distort
how teachers train.
but breathe, 
gently drift
with placid ease.

no rush or brush
against moment or mat
remain composed,
just where you’re at.

the yoke of yoga
rejoins the dance 
of nature’s flow,
remembering,
forgetting  
all we know. 

a stroll among trees,
the breeze, the chime,
secret places
hard to find.

yoga’s yoke
is out of time,
center the body
in present mind.

no web of rules 
of don’ts and dues,
force of will
to win or lose.

the essence of craft
not angles of math,
degree of fold
or length of hold.

the yoke of yoga 
is slightest of all,
a chord of darkness 
beyond the wall.

the yoke of yoga
claims no name,
tis’ private prayer, 
everything and nothing, 
still – it is there. 

no special room or place.

expressed in duties of the day 
through daily grind
though rivers rage, still divine.

is peace of thought 
and grace untaught.
yoke of yoga is yet defined,
yoga’s yoke eludes the mind.

yoke of yoga’s path is wealth
many roads lead to self.
rhythm of life found in death
prana in and out of breath.

by K. Osei