Hatha Yoga

A free-verse poem

Photo by Dave Contreras on Unsplash

The crescent moon perches
atop my spine,
tilting along with my rhythm of
cat…cow…cat…cow…cat…cow…
Infusing mirthful vibes,
it slides away from my back,
as I flatten on the earth.
It becomes a silent spectator,
while I shapeshift into lunges.
Every atom of my body,
every tendon, every ligament
charges up with whatever
that flows through this universe.
In those ten minutes,
I realize that this is where I belong.
My head to heaven,
the crescent moon, my companion.

©Kavya Janani. U

If you love my poems, please consider purchasing a copy of my newly published poetry collection From The Land of Longing.