Poem: Magical Yogis by Mark Tulin

 

If you take a hike from the mountaintop

and follow the spiraling mist downhill

you’ll come across an ancient watering hole

where the magical yogis appear.

They live among the tall bulbous mushrooms

that surround the clear pristine waters.

Sun glistening off their ancient faces,

prism light bouncing off flowers and stones.

This is the home of the magical yogis

where they can be seen doing slow vinyasa,

gracefully moving bodies, hearts to the sky

bellies undulating, firing up in pranayama.

Slender acrobatic female yogis,

wiry white-bearded yogis

doing backbends and cartwheels

Magical yogis are the ghosts of yogis past

coming out when the wistful spirit moves them,

magical, mystical Kundalini yogis

showing bystanders their cosmic elasticity

and vanishing before their eyes.

©️MFT

 

More poems like this in my chapbook of poetry, Magical Yogis.  Click the link to Magical Yogis at the top of my home page to make the purchase.