home

it found me 

on my yoga mat 

this afternoon

like a gut punch 

that steals the air 

from your lungs 

it was while attending to my 

breath I discovered 

I had none 

shavasana 

and then I’m panting  

out the front door

into the parking lot 

without words 

or wind 

something 

stirs 

in this obscure 

and murky 

mire within 

its subtle 

strength 

needs not 

be seen 

to be sensed

like a deep ocean current 

quietly rearranging 

each thing  

steeped in its 

own depth and 

darkness 

so too 

does this 

vortex 

pull me apart 

dislocate me

from place

and plunge 

me into 

process 

here 

I only recognize 

things by what 

they’re not 

this is 

not home 

not peace 

not joy 

not light 

not shore 

not air 

not sun 

not sure 

not you 

not more 

not there 

and me? 

not me. 

or 

not who 

I was anyway. 

so maybe 

not, not me

either. 

I’m long past 

“having grief” 

– I think maybe 

grief simply has me 

its doing 

something

whether I 

object to it, 

resist it,

do yoga about it,  

or not 

it’s rearranging

me into 

something 

I entirely 

don’t know 

I sense 

it’s movement 

most when I’m 

still

car in park 

hands on the wheel 

I search 

for the strength 

to soften 

I’m powerless 

to it’s persuasion 

– powerless 

to it’s precipitation 

unsure 

of how,

a prayer 

finds my lips

without

noise 

not me 

whispers

“please

will you carry 

me home?”

not nothing 

hears it 

and not not nothing 

hears it either 

I surrender

to what’s shifting 

inside me 

which is to say, 

I cry. 

like listening  

to the pulsation  

of pelting things 

lost from where they 

once belonged

while waiting in the car

for the storm 

to pass 

I too wait 

on this sunny afternoon

for this precipitation

to pass 

gradually 

the crescendo softens

my breath steadies 

and my now

tingling fingers

put the keys 

in the ignition 

and I drive home 

in a silence 

my vehicle

can now

barely

contain 

something is 

not the same

maybe my loss lives more 

at home now, here in this body.