The Chaos this Moment is…

by Heather*

a yogini tangled up—someone tied up in knots.
Someone who can do beautiful poses
but is finding themselves in a pretzel.

There’s a tightness in the stomach
and a rancid taste like you’ve eaten something bad.
It almost smells like necrotic flesh.

Their mind is a ball of yarn
and they can’t pull the thread out
into a spider web that might make sense.

It reminds me of a time on a bridge
running into a semi-truck
when all I could do
was throw everything over the side of the bridge
and wait for the ambulance to come.

There’s something beautiful
about the capacity
of the Yoga Master—
the potential that exists
to untangle the knot—
to find yourself standing in a pose
where you can touch the earth
and the sky
and be the conduit in between.

*Pongo Poetry Mentor Heather dictated this poem during a training exercise, thinking about how we're all feeling during COVID, but also, how trauma-affected youth feel all the time.