A Yogi Twas the Morn Before Christmas
A Yogic Adaptation of A Visit from St. Nicholas
By Sandra Coyner
'Twas the morn before Christmas, we all came to class
Peace of mind for us yogi's and to thin down our--- (mass!)
We rolled out our mats on the wood floor with care,
All in the back away from the yoga teacher's stare;
Then pretending to sit still staring down at our toe;
So she wouldn't make us move up into the front row;
Hands at our heart, intentions were set,
That next year's expectations, all would be met,
When from the outside the studio there arose such a clatter,
I sprang past Nataraja to see what was the matter.
The candles all flickered in the wake of my breeze,
And the draft of the incense made some start to sneeze.
I left the class waiting to know the next asana,
While I peered at the glistening snow covering the "grass-ana",
When what to my wondering eyes did I see,
But a reindeer and Santa shouting out "Shanti!",
He came into class, minus yoga apparel
Not resembling the Santa in Elf with Will Ferrell.
A yogi at heart, the poses he voiced,
But practicing ahimsa he gave us a choice:
"Now, Down Dog! now, Cobra! now Puppy and Malasana!
On, Rabbit! on, Warrior! on, Headstand and Balasana!
He did the poses as well transitioning with a hop
Oh, the balance he had from climbing on each rooftop!
He offered us gifts, the non-attachable kinds,
Because he knew material belongings would just mess with our minds;
His prana so magical, a legendary mentor
He offered to balance each chakra energy center—
A strong sense of grounding when balancing our Root
So we focused our drishti on Santa's red suit.
In his pockets, carrots, a great reindeer snack,
And to balance our Sacral we focused on that.
Yellow, Solar Plexus and green for the heart,
No stranger to yoga he ignored someone's fart;
Without pause he held up an ornament blue,
And our throat chakras balanced all the way through!
Our third eye's saw indigo, we all looked within
and saw the bright light underneath our own skin!
A violet light glowed as he balanced our Crown,
and healing enveloped us much like a gown.
He gave us great tips, like naked yoga shouldn't be,
never hang onto a yogi who is wobbly in Tree;
snoring, he said, in svasana's okay
because maybe it means you simply had a tough day.
And don't forward fold if your pants tend to slip low,
And non-judgementally laugh if you fall out of Crow;
Your practice is yours, he said so wisely
It will reveal a path on an amazing journey.
And don't hold your breath, you will simply turn blue
And your teacher does not want to CPR you!
That was it; with a mudra he went right out the door
As we sat in Sukasana on the hard floor;
To his team he gave a whistle as he sprang to his sleigh,
And we all bowed our heads and said Namaste.
But we heard him exclaim, as we all left for home—
“Merry Christmas to all" then a fabulous "Om".
12/24/2013 05:00:23 am
Love this poem! You are so creative, Thank You!
12/28/2013 04:02:15 pm
Deb said it best, very creative.
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