Yoga Poetry – The Slant of Everything

Yoga Poetry – The Slant of Everything

Always just to your right, an angle at sunset

or slashing down from the pilot light of the clouds,

the slant of everything. Sometimes, no danger,

just heat lightning and crickets to echo the humidity.

Sometimes everything lifted on one sudden breeze,

surprisingly cold as it slants through the summer

opening between day and night. The golden west

calls past the horizon ahead. The shimmering east

loses its heat and stillness. The moment transparent,

the air thin so that what you know and don’t know,

those you’ve lost and those you’ve yet to love,

converges at one point just over your view of

the western-most cottonwood trip, tilting plans

or wishes, the world always two directions at once.