Poem: Returning to My Drishti by Mark Tulin

I sit quietly

at this moment

 with a slight lift

 of the hips,

 legs folded,

 little finger

 touching thumb,

 heart and crown

 toward the sky,

 lips parted.

 I breathe in.

 I breathe out.

 I breathe in.

 I breathe out,

 gently gazing down,

 following my breath,

 distracted at times,

 returning to my drishti

 again

 and again.

 

 

©️MFT