"Yoga is the journey of the self, through the self, to the self."
- Bhagavad Gita

"Roses, Late Summer" by Mary Oliver

What happens to the leaves after they turn red and golden and fall away?
What happens to the singing birds when they can't sing any longer?
What happens to their quick wings?

Do you think there is any personal heaven for any of us?
Do you think anyone, the other side of that darkness, will call to us, meaning us?

Beyond the trees the foxes keep teaching their children to live in the valley. so they never seem to vanish,
they are always there in the blossom of the light that stands up every morning in the dark sky.
And over one more set of hills, along the sea, the last roses have opened their factories of sweetness and are giving it back to the world.

if I had another life I would want to spend it all on some unstinting happiness.
I would be a fox, or a tree full of waving branches.
I wouldn't mind being a rose in a field full of roses.
Fear has not yet occurred to them, nor ambition.
Reason they have not yet thought of.
Neither do they ask how long they must be roses, and then what.
Or any other foolish question.


"Walk Slowly" by Danna Faulds

It only takes a reminder to breathe,
a moment to be still, and just like that,
something in me settles, softens, makes
space for imperfection. The harsh voice
of judgment drops to a whisper and I
remember again that life isn’t a relay
race; that we will all cross the finish
line; that waking up to life is what we
were born for. As many times as I
forget, catch myself charging forward
without even knowing where I’m going,
that many times I can make the choice
to stop, to breathe, and be, and walk
slowly into the mystery.


“Allow” by Danna Faulds
​
There is no controlling life.
Try corralling a lightning bolt,
containing a tornado.  Dam a
stream and it will create a new
channel.  Resist, and the tide
will sweep you off your feet.
Allow, and grace will carry
you to higher ground.  The only
safety lies in letting it all in –
the wild and the weak; fear,
fantasies, failures and success.
When loss rips off the doors of
the heart, or sadness veils your
vision with despair, practice
becomes simply bearing the truth.
In the choice to let go of your
known way of being, the whole
world is revealed to your new eyes.


Older version of "Let go" by Gabryel Harrison

​I want to say to you
Let go of everything

Be like a ripe plum
thin-skinned and full
ready
to fall

I want to say
you need to lose the world
to know
nothing is ever lost

Like the wind
the heart holds everything

Here, in the gift of every mourning
rises the black winged bird of liberation

Listen,
Be fearless
there is death in every birth

dance lightly as petals
returning to the earth

Most of all
I want you to say
you were always more beautiful
than you imagined

I want to say to you
You are beloved
You are beloved of the earth


Modified "The movement of life is sweet" by Gill Hedley

The movement of life is sweet

There comes a point
when the death you've been dying
is finalized
and your life moves on
...
​Past the bitter
Taste the sweet

Every death begets a life
and you have come to live


Two combined poems by Danna Faulds

The forgetting is complete
Like amnesia or the densest fog
that grips me till it lifts

And I remember that life
isn't a relay race
that we will all cross the finish line
that waking up to life
is what we were born for

As many times as I forget
catch myself charging forwards
and not knowing where I'm going

That many times
I can make the choice to stop
to breathe and be
and walk slowly into the mystery