Yoga Poetry


Lines that can’t be drawn


Knowing my layers like I do now

not knowing too

I begin with the sheath I am born with

a physical structure

a sculpture

Interacting with the universe

Annamaya Kosha

I feed this body

move this body

through asanas

small, large, complex

Yet it is layered too

with energy

Pranamaya Kosha

energising all the other koshas

without respect for the lines drawn

by artists

For the art is energy flow

from sources I imbibe

breath – food – water – ideas – universe

Maha prana (energy of the universe)

flowing through nadis

creating connections

firing at chakra synaptic moments

Sun and moon combining


functioning too

through the vayus

leading into the mind

Manomaya Kosha

base instinct – needs & desires


the world I move in

with antennae formed through

instinct/manas, ego I-ness/ahamkara, memory/chitta, intellect low/buddhi

and I reach toward, interconnect with

Vijnanamaya Kosha – my wisdom

the higher buddhi, higher chitta

reaching toward oneness

through openness

for knowledge, joy, vistas of infinite creative fields

and through  these fields

I cross fences

that begin to crumble to the earth

as I begin to sight a glimmer ahead

a glimmer of the divine

Sometimes shadowed by a tamasic mood

overglorified by raja

balancing, balancing

moving through the chakras

I can reach sattwa

I can know more

and rejoice in knowing less

on this journey

On this journey

where the way points

are Yamas, Niyamas, Asana, Pranayama, Pratyahara, Dharana, Dhyana



Yes, samadhi

if not in this lifetime

in the next

or perhaps the next

depending on time

depending on practice

on my constitution –

my doshas: Kapha/child, Pitta/adult, Vata/aged

indeterminate constitutional shifts in between


What I know now

there are no lines

for the artist to draw

Each day a new opening

to see the shimmer

of samadhi

the wordlessness

of Anandamaya Kosha