Tuesday, August 27, 2019
Subtle Yoga––poem by Dorothy
Subtle Yoga
If anyone would see me
do what I do,
they would see nothing.
Finger movements
so tiny
they cannot be perceived.
Eyeballs moving
left to right.
Hips in minute
rotation.
No sighs,
no touching
of self,
or else often hands,
palms turned in,
circling at a distance
around the head
or body,
caressing the aura,
the astral body,
oh, what rapture.
I become
a shimmering
fountain of
light, of delight,
of joy to revel
in what I am,
what I will become,
of what you are.
I call myself
a yogi,
practitioner
of subtle yoga,
subtle, subtle yoga,
the others don't
know about it,
how our bodies
turn to light.
I don't think it
can be taught.
Make love
with the invisible one.
Follow your bliss.
Dorothy Walters
August 25, 2019
