DAILY In Memoria: Blood memory of time Coughed in turbulence that tubercular life An arm severed when but a boy. Blood wedding, for Lorca knew. Blood drained in leaches, through dark lesions When memory could hold no more. Those faces– mine. Known to you. You my mother, my friend, My Captain, my child, my slave. Mated in blood, we turn and twist As one another, Time and again, and time without time, Becoming one for the other, one for all, one. Asana: Go where you can be touched by your memories. Find a silence and depth within a pose that allows, even beckons old, darkened corners to stand in greater relief. Press your nose into the window of time and see who appears. Let your breath lead the way.
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