Slowly we greet our bodies from toe to crown,

feel the strength of our roots

stretching deep into the earth,

grounded, stable, secure,

as we sway side to side.

Moving to the sacral chakra

we are both the beloved and the lover,

open ourselves to giving and receiving,

freely, naturally, gently.

We find our warrior selves and

roar with power, try out new stances,

announce who we are to the world

loud and clear.

As tall grass touched by an ocean breeze,

we softly sway to and fro

moved by the waves behind us

and open our hearts to all beings.

From twigs and branches we

build a fire, circle it, and

dance delightedly as it sizzles and cracks,

following then leading in our own unique ways.

At last we rest, melting into the floor,

and give thanks to our bodies,

grateful for what they have enabled us to do,

aware that they are always with us,

that we are one with the world.

With gratitude to our leader, Martha T.

Walk in silence and with each step,

breathe in, breathe out.

Feel the weight shift.

Listen, smell, touch.

Soft moss, hidden pond, gentle breeze,

orange mushroom and

ruffled lichen,

a hidden bench.

Trust that your flame will find the way.

Cease grasping and

absorb silence,

compassion, peace.

Washed clean of dust and pollen in

a summer’s rain,

lilies smile and

clematis stretch

while grass revels in its freshness

and shy gumpos

start to expose

white, pink blossoms.

Inside, I thirst to partake of

this clean earth, so

out I go and

lift face to sky.

Right now in this moment, only

this moment, an

onslaught of male

tree frogs pierce the

silence with hum of mating calls.

Far off geese sound

their harsh call, and

Luna’s collar

tinkles as traffic murmurs and

green grass stretches

to welcome the

sun at long last.

To witness wonder in action,

watch a puppy

in her first snow.

Nose to the ground,

in yoga’s perfect downward dog,

she sniffs and snorts,

then dances in

circles as she

tosses this mysterious thing.

No thought of the

future, only

this moment, now.

Sun low in the Western sky, a

single bird with

cheerful song flies

over our heads.

Through the freeze-fried grass to pond’s edge,

footsteps crunching.

Luna, ever

the explorer,

sniffs and paws at each new smell, sight,

always present,

a reminder

for her mistress.

Early morning. Stacked, blue-grey clouds

drifting above,

backlit by sun,

moving slowly.

12 geese with raucous cries fly in

formation, with

one drifter far

behind, soaring

to his own fluttering music,

apart but close.

Who can’t be filled

with gratitude?

Twas just as a Christmas pageant

should be, baby

Jesus cried and

shepherds yawned. The

first wiseman could not be heard and

the second’s voice

so sweet and clear,

the third off key.

Baby angels wandering while

proud parents and

grandparents swelled

with pride and joy.

Candles in windows, lighted tree,

clear, sweet notes

sung by boys, drift

from radio

spreading their warmth on rainy day.

Luna and I

venture outside

to stretch our legs,

breathe clean, crisp, cold air. Me in my

yellow slicker,

she in bare fur,

bouncing along.

Overhead wild geese raucously

shouting, single

drops of rain on

pond’s surface spread

into concentric circles that

gently touch each

other. We hear

pitter patter.

To experience the peace such

moments bring, all

I have to do

is be open.