Wilderness

wilderness

There is a wolf in me . . . fangs pointed for tearing gashes . . . a red tongue for raw meat . . . and the hot lapping of blood—I keep this wolf because the wilderness gave it to me and the wilderness will not let it go.

There is a fox in me . . . a silver-gray fox . . . I sniff and guess . . . I pick things out of the wind and air . . . I nose in the dark night and take sleepers and eat them and hide the feathers . . . I circle and loop and double-cross.

There is a hog in me . . . a snout and a belly . . . a machinery for eating and grunting . . . a machinery for sleeping satisfied in the sun—I got this too from the wilderness and the wilderness will not let it go.

There is a fish in me . . . I know I came from salt-blue water-gates . . . I scurried with shoals of herring . . . I blew waterspouts with porpoises . . . before land was . . . before the water went down . . . before Noah . . . before the first chapter of Genesis.

There is a baboon in me . . . clambering-clawed . . . dog-faced . . . yawping a galoot’s hunger . . . hairy under the armpits . . . here are the hawk-eyed hankering men . . . here are the blonde and blue-eyed women . . . here they hide curled asleep waiting . . . ready to snarl and kill . . . ready to sing and give milk . . . waiting—I keep the baboon because the wilderness says so.

There is an eagle in me and a mockingbird . . . and the eagle flies among the Rocky Mountains of my dreams and fights among the Sierra crags of what I want . . . and the mockingbird warbles in the early forenoon before the dew is gone, warbles in the underbrush of my Chattanoogas of hope, gushes over the blue Ozark foothills of my wishes—And I got the eagle and the mockingbird from the wilderness.

O, I got a zoo, I got a menagerie, inside my ribs, under my bony head, under my red-valve heart—and I got something else: it is a man-child heart, a woman-child heart: it is a father and mother and lover: it came from God-Knows-Where: it is going to God-Knows-Where—For I am the keeper of the zoo: I say yes and no: I sing and kill and work: I am a pal of the world: I came from the wilderness.

BY CARL SANDBURG
Source: The Complete Poems of Carl Sandburg (Harcourt Brace Iovanovich Inc., 1970)

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YFS Support & Community Practice SUNDAY 10/5 from 11am-1pm

autumn oak This Sunday at It’s All Yoga Studio I’ll be hosting a yoga for scoliosis support & community practice for those of you desirous of connecting with your body, heart, mind, and community of practitioners who also have scoliosis.

We’ll enjoy a nourishing practice that addresses the ways our bodies respond to the transition that is Autumn. During this season many of us feel the inclination to hydrate, warm, and ground as the restless, cooling, and drying energy of vata (air/ether) is high throughout these colorful days and evenings. In our practice we’ll emphasize warming muscular release through Qi Gong based movements, and then explore (in particular) the feet, legs, and pelvis through grounding standing poses. We’ll close with a restorative practice that invites us into a state of deeply relaxed awareness. There will be opportunity to ask questions at the beginning and throughout the practice, and to share with one another.

The cost is $20. There are scholarships available to those in financial struggle.

I look forward to being with you in practice THIS SUNDAY OCTOBER 5th from 11am-1pm at It’s All Yoga on 21st Street in between Broadway and X Streets!