by Jnana Hodson
The old swami was only fifty-one, I see now.
He thought Helene and I both were way too skinny.
The cookies my mother, an inept cook, shipped
went to class anyway. The break, after a workout.
“You moved away from this? You’re nuts!”
“Breathe as if you’re a sponge,” Loretta encouraged.
Life is different when the mind controls the breath.
“You are the most interesting person you’ll ever meet,”
Guru-dev insisted. “Stand in your own Light,
Or stand on your own head, before falling over.
“People leave us alone,” the young bride radiated.
“We pacifists are no fun to fight with.”
An exchange of floral garlands
made a wedding.
When the husband chanted,
he sounded like a puppy
first thing in the morning.
This would be as close as I would get to India
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