A Brave New World

Downward dog with bum held high and fingers splayed on either side,

Stretching chest towards the floor, high on tiptoes, squeeze in core.

Back is easing, shoulders sinking, head clears thought and frenzied thinking.

Ears brush elbows, calves quite tight; my arms they ache, but soul is light.

The voice from Zoom floats round the room

And pulls me back to earth – too soon!

A friendly face from outer space

(or inner space? that place inside

Where social distancers can hide while letting anxious fretting slide).

“Can everybody hear OK? Next week we’ll try a different way

If this is buggy, lags or sighs while you are stretching out your thighs.

Let’s focus on your tum a mo’, with conscious breathing, to and fro

And let

the white noise

go.

And in.

And out.”

I’m floating in my inner mind. No cares, while tensing my behind

and pelvic floor.

I soar.

...

Now walk my fingers back with ease and rest my chin against my knees.

Then bone by bone I rise to stand, and reaching up, I clasp my hands

And stretch my neck now left, now right, now tuck my chins both out of sight.

And leaning back peruse the ceiling, mouth wide open……

Funny feeling.

Oh.

I shan’t pretend I like the end of class.

As

It brings a wave of relaxation to these days of isolation.

        I s’pose I ought to try to go and jog.

                 But 

                       I’ll de-stress a whole lot faster trying to sedulously master

                               A good long, sweaty

                                        Perfect downward dog.

(c)Fiona Mauchline 2020