2013-02-06T13:40:28-08:00February 6th, 2013|Musings on life|

The irony of mindfulness

The yoga teacher tells me to be mindful
in that way yoga teachers have
of saying simple things
that sound wise

and as the blood gallops to my head
while I perch upside down
I consider this

to be mindful

in the echoing way
she says I should feel
as though I am a dollop of breath
on a prairie field

which makes my nose itch
as it does
when an epiphany looms

because if I was meant
to feel the absence
of the strum of this world

wouldn’t it be mindempty

I float my feet
back to the floor
and scratch my nose

I look around
suddenly hungry
for all of it

I fill my mind
with everything in the room
a defiant binge

I want to tell her
I tasted
every sight.

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