Yoga Practice

Yoga, ancient, sacred, a dance of grace,

A practice woven through time, in every place.

With breaths that rise and fall like the sea,

It roots the soul and sets it free.

 

Why do I practice? Oh, let me tell,

Of a world within, where stillness dwells.

In the silence of breath, soft as night’s caress,

Yoga draws me near, and I'm one with less,

Less of the worries that cloud my sight,

Less of the burdens that weigh and fight.

 

In gentle poses, in stilled embrace,

I find the shape of inner space.

In meditative flow, the outer fades,

I drift from the noise and the world’s charades.

Through asanas that open, twist, and bend,

I meet the self, as my truest friend.

 

Each stretch, a prayer, each pose, a shrine,

To the sacred body and the mind’s design.

And in those moments of pure release,

I uncover my heart, I uncover peace.

Gone are the walls, the restless pace,

I find a sanctuary in time and space.

 

The sun salutes, the moon bows low,

In this ancient ritual’s steady flow,

I discover wisdom, quiet, deep,

In Yoga’s heart, where secrets sleep.

 

Why do I practice? To simply be,

To touch the threads of eternity.

It’s more than motion, more than breath,

It’s life within life, and in life, death.

 

The shedding of layers, to see and to know,

The self beyond what outwardly shows.

I practice Yoga to dance with soul,

To remember myself as whole.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

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