As a slight shift from more serious posts, a poem. For fifteen years, yoga practice has been part of my self care. Thus, today’s blog gives light-hearted voice to the body, protesting long stretches at the computer.
Outta shape.
Outta alignment.
Too long since last session–
the body’s chorus protests:
Creak, groan, pop, “ouch,”
moan, tickle, str-e-t-ch,
pinch, whimper, croak.
Six hundred forty muscles,
Thirty-seven trillion cells:
The quiet inner voices become
one slam-bang jazz band.
Hamstrings taut as banjo strings,
timpani of heart, trumpets of lungs,
tubas of gluteus maximus,
belt out brassy and bold:
“Yes. Do it again.”
Kathy Coffey 