Pratyahara

And so what do I do
when I am pulled (or am I pulling?)
relentlessly
As the earth is to the sun
Or the tides rising and falling
with the moon's temperament?

You may say with bright eyes
Smiling
That they are wise
to keep a safe space
of a few million miles.

I know.

So when this body twists
towards You or turns away
only to return, sinking deeper,
My breath, my grounding will hold me in place.
But my drishti will not deceive me.

Have I failed pratyahara?

When the energy rises and escapes these senses,
I breathe them back in
Deeply into my spine,
but it reaches up;
into my heart,
yet it lifts;
Trying, infinitesimally,
To be closer to You.

And what of this impermanence
of moments
Beaded by breath?
Although slow and steady,
Sometimes, it seeks
to follow Yours.

I think I understand though.

I cannot build my bridge to come
any nearer
nor build a fortress
to hold back
this exchange of a billion brilliant lights swirling around us
In however many lifetimes
We could not remember.

I understand only this:

There is no need to want
to be One.
I know
We already are.

(Nov 28, In the morning after a rather sleepless night. Room 8 Yoga Thailand)