I heard this poem on the radio this morning and it spoke to the yogi in me.  Thought I'd share...

by May Swenson (1919-1989)

Body my house
my horse my hound
what will I do
when you are fallen

Where will I sleep
How will I ride
What will I hunt

Where can I go
without my mount
all eager and quick
How will I know
in thicket ahead
is danger or treasure
when Body my good
bright dog is dead

How will it be
to lie in the sky
without roof or door
and wind for an eye

With cloud for shift
how will I hide? 


  1. hmmm, I just posted a related post. Lovely poem. I often used to say that 'yoga was the horse that constantly threw me'. Only by practicing ashtanga can I manage to stay on.

    hope you're doing well with all your changes...

  2. lovely, first thing I've read this morning. thank you x