Poem: Yoga Nature

I do yoga in the autumn woods.
Nature is my teacher.
The sky is my Om.
The soil of the ground, my mat
that I lengthen in an upward dog.

The tree is my pose
that stables my imbalance.
The black slate is my plank
when I feel weak and unsure.
The leaves crackle under my feet
as I reverse my warrior.

I skim the stones of mindfulness
across the shallow creek
of glistening waters.
I breathe in the scent of pine and maple
with Ujjayi breath.
I stretch and unwind
under an emerald-blue waterfall
to loosen the tightness
of my grip.


Freelance writer, poet, yogi and photographer from Santa Barbara, California. I write and take pictures about a variety of topics, from my early childhood in Philadelphia, to my years as a family therapist, and finally to my soul-searching years in California. The things that move me may have a humorous or serious content or both. Either way, I hope my poetry, pictures and stories resonate with you.

16 comments on “Poem: Yoga Nature

  1. Loved this, transported me right there.

  2. Wonderfully natural!

  3. Needed the “Now” experience. Thanks for stopping by Poemattic.

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