Yoga

I am like clay, dervish spinning on your wheel
Putty, pliable in your craftsman’s hands
Turn after turn, I dance for you
Undulate beneath your careful touch, your expert eyes
Breasts, hips, thighs, lips, breath

You smooth and warm my skin,
knead out the knots, blend the worry from my brow
Like a warm blade on butter, you melt my resolve and I drink you in
Let you mold me into something of your design
You carve out the beauty I hide within
And make plain, what others do not see

Willing to be your creation, I bend myself into the mold of your artist’s hands
Stretch toward your agile fingers
Wrapping them around me like a coat
And wait with anticipation as you bring me close
Paint the colours of my skin then place me in the light so that I am revered

When you go I am distraught
Gazing at my reflection with a timid realization laced in doubt
I am amazed at what I see
Even I didn’t know what I could be until now
Dropping disbelief to the floor, I embrace myself
And I am born.