Flowers don't regret blooming and

Trees don't regret shedding leaves.

The wind doesn't regret blowing and

Rain doesn't regret falling.

So then why do I regret breathing?

Fire doesn't regret raging,

Snow doesn't regret melting,

Water doesn't regret freezing, and

The sun doesn't regret shining.

So then why do I regret living?

Rivers don't regret flowing,

Ice doesn't regret melting,

Planets don't regret spinning,

And I can barely be me.

The cafe windows were dotted with raindrops, obscuring my view of the rain soaked street outside. Heavy traffic drove bumper to bumper while bustling people in colorful raincoats and umbrellas walked up and down the sidewalks.

I took another sip from my coffee and sighed as the heat fogged up my glasses. I pulled them off my face and started rubbing them with my sleeves.

"Hey look. It actually stopped raining."

I slipped my glasses back on and saw that Jess was right. The streets were still hidden in shadow but there were no more freezing raindrops falling from the sky.

"I heard they had to close the floodgates there was so much rain."

I nodded. "I bet. I hope the river starts flowing like it used to once this is all over with." I recalled the dried up riverbed, that in truth was nothing more than a slow trickle of water anymore. It saddened him, thinking back on how much fun Jess and him had had swimming in it, fishing, and other various activities they had done when they were kids. The river was a childhood symbol to them, and seeing it struggle wasn't pleasant.

"I'm sure it is," Jess assured. "I couldn't imagine it not being at least slightly filled after the downpour we've had."

"I hope it is." I sat up straighter as I got an idea. "Hey, you wanna take a walk to Farson's Bridge? We could check the river from there."

"What if it starts raining again?" Jess asked skeptically, looking down at her shirt. "I really don't feel like soaking this, I just got it a couple days ago."

"You look good in it by the way- and don't worry, I brought an umbrella. Come on, it'll be fun."

She sighed. "I guess it would be." Jess stood up and pulled her coat on and I followed suit, slipping my hand through the loop on the bottom of the umbrella. With my other hand I grabbed my coffee and together we headed out the door.

It's surprising how much the atmosphere can change when everybody isn't huddled under umbrellas and hidden inside their hoods. It seemed brighter now than it had before entering the cafe, for that exact reason. Since the rain had stopped everyone had emerged from their human-like shells, at least for a little while.

We turned right, flowing with the crowd toward a crosswalk. "You know, Jess, I've always liked it when the weather calls for people to bundle up. I'm not sure what about it, but it's… nice to look at."

She turned her hazel eyes on me. "You're crazy."

I shrugged and took a large gulp from my coffee.

The crosswalk countdown started and we were jostled forward by the crowd to the other side of the road. It was simple enough to get to Farson's Bridge from the cafe, all you had to do was follow the sidewalk North for about a mile. It was a straight forward shot.

"Shit." A large man smacked into me from behind, causing me to drop my coffee. It was immediately trampled by the crowd.

"Well there goes my coffee." Jess and I never were the confrontational type, and even if we were there wasn't much we could've done about it. The man was twice as large as me with three times the muscle. "It's alright. It was getting cold anyway."

"Here, we can share the rest of mine." She handed me her coffee.

"Thanks." I took it from her red-painted-fingernail hand and took a sip. Luckily we both liked the same thing.

The closer we got to Farson's Bridge, the more the crowd dispersed. There weren't as many shops down this way than there were in the middle of the city and soon Jess and I weren't forced to walk so close together.

I was relieved when the rise of the dike came into view. Jess started picking up the pace and soon we were racing up the hill.

At the top we turned left on the sidewalk, heading toward the bridge that was already in sight.

"I made it to the top first." Jess said, swiping her curly, ginger hair out of her pale skinned face.

"Oh come on, you totally know I made it there first."

"No, I did." She put her hands on her hips.

"No, I did." I said, placing my hands on my hips, copying her.

"No!"

"Yes!"

"No!"

"Yes!"

"No."

"Ye-"

"HEY! Look at this!" She bent down and picked a piece of folded up paper off the ground. We had arrived at the bridge.

"What's it say?" I asked as she unraveled it. I watched her eyes flicker across the page, then them narrowing in confusion.

"It's… a poem."

"Well, what's it say?"

"Here you read it." Her face had fallen ashen.

I took the paper and adjusted my glasses so I could read it. The words sounded heavy in the air.

"With the rain comes pain and sorrow

I can no longer wait 'till tomorrow

The river is flowing,

I will be going,

Goodbye, at least for awhile."

"What's it mean?" Jess asked, her voice shaking.

"I… I think it's a suicide note Jess…"

She was just a washerwoman but 'er kids was always fed,

An' she didn't have no 'usband 'cause the bugger 'e was dead,

So she shrugged off all the misery an' got stuck into work,

Earnin' pennies for 'er efforts tho' 'er duty's never shirked,

In due time 'er kids was older 'cause she was a mother true,

An' she never took no put downs from the likes of me and you,

Though she grafted like a good 'un there was always grub at home,

An' she'd kiss 'er kids goodnight before she went to bed alone,

All 'er neighbours saw 'er efforts an' they'd 'elp as best they could,

'Cause good people stick together just like all good people should,

Even though it was a struggle 'er kids made it into school,

'Cause she'd taught 'em all beforehand so's they wouldn't look a fool,

In the end she couldn't work no more 'cause old age held 'er back,

But them kids they all was good 'uns and they cut her lots of slack,

An' they cried for mother Nellie an' they repaid all 'er love,

Now she washes up in heaven lookin' down from up above,

Now the Good Lord loves a clean 'ouse an' 'e blessed those kids of 'ers,

An' in time they all was married to some very 'andsome sirs,

But old Nellie was remembered with 'er picture on the wall,

That Washerwoman Nellie was the greatest mum of all,

So you think what I did was nice

But you could do it better?

Like you said I work hard

but you're a real go-getter?

Garbage and trash

take that nonsense back

if you're gonna hit me with the positive

then any kinda negative, you can have that

A fool by nature, blinded in eyes and heart

you think that by breaking the world down

you're the only one the coach can start?

and to failure you're bound

Hey man , slick rhyme, I like how it rolled off the tongue

too bad I got 1,000 verses that take that one in like a sponge.

Hey man, wow, sick sense of style

damn shame it doesn't pop-off with that smile.

Anything to keep you alpha, at least in speaking

but last time I checked it was my achievements you were redeeming

A shame you think your judgment comes in and makes verdict

Damn shame the jury's out, sentence fell on deaf ears, you shoulda heard it

You make me an incredulous being to anything positive

that it should always come laced with that sweet sting

If it's not this but that and laced with intensive negatives

then how could I possibly be in the winning?

Damn shame that I'm about to win at your game

Real gem of a backhanded compliment

mundane, though, they all sound the same

like you gotta couple pebbles, and mine are diamond encrusted

Finesse, you gettin' this?

make a play with pure skill

no need for muscle, all chill

sorry I knew it flew above your head : I erupted your interest

Stardust is falling

From the nighttime sky

Twinkling in the atmosphere

Like their predecessor

It's a beautiful red

Bright and pure

Deeper than that of the blood in our veins

It mingles in the air

Like cobwebs that have fallen from space

They mix and mingle and intertwine

With the rich shade of blue known as moondust

In the fall they combine and combust

Popping and sparking and pulsing

Gliding to the ground like ashes

There, they settle

Like a blanket of snow

Where they sow their seeds and seep

Into the ground below our feet

Sinking like that of water

And from the ground

Where they had lain

Bloomed a beautiful flower of purple-

Opening only in that of night

In honor of which they were born

Repetition begets fluidity. Every flow slightly different than the one before leads to bodily anticipation that gets brought up short when attention is required to shift.

I find my mind wanting to lose itself in endless repetitions of checking hand placement, shifting weight and deepening into each pose, craving a break from the physical demands of moving through a flow whilst reveling in the precision of solo practice.

No one there to call out transitions but me and my breath. I lengthen my inhalations and exhalations to prolong the posture. It is challenging bliss.

The warriors shifting from upright to crouched and finally springing into flight…I rarely practice them in succession and discover a tempo that seems to guide my feet and body through the transitions without having to think.

I have become so much stronger and balanced in the last four months. I trust my body so much more. Pains and cramps that disabled a pose before I could explore it in stillness have evaporated. I find myself with ghost sensations of limitation and know that I must continue creating a new A track if I want this expanding flexibility and strength to become a permanent reality.

There is so much room to grow into, even as I marvel at how my body is responding to gentle suggestions of movement and arc.

I restarted my yoga practice to become strong enough to hold my boy, to keep up with life’s physical demands and inspire myself to deepen into being human. What I have discovered is a dynamic vehicle for holistic discipline and a daily experience with grace.

This particular practice reminds me of the eternal dance between balancing the body, tempering the mind and resting in spirit.

It is difficult to adjust yourself when you are inside the pose. Without a mirror in the perfect place or a set of eyes to watch over you, it is more important than ever to truly play with the elements of asana. How does the body respond when you shift forward, raise the arms higher, stretch from the hip, externally rotate the shoulder?

Warrior III still provides the opportunity to explore fundamentals of any pose. Can I stay upright on one leg while bent at the hip, reaching both arms to fly before me? Can I remember to breathe?

It fascinates me to see the different levels of mastery I have achieved between different poses. How a body can move so freely on one plane and have such rigidity in the same pose on a different angle. I become more and more convinced that working with asana is a direct way to encounter karma in all of its facets and manifestations. Quite literally, working out your own salvation through twist, bend and lift.

Shit. Forgot I don’t have a rhythm.

But then again I don’t need one because I’m just spinning the wheel of fortune knowing I’m not abhorring my horoscope as a token; it’s more like Horus, no joke, and he'll have written that in a tome like J.R.R. Tolkien. But I’m not tokin’ like Gandalf, necessarily, just freestyle-flowin’ acapella. This is a last standoff between x-men and the opposers, and I am no opponent (you know it). In fact I’m not opposed to conjuring your patronus while knowin’ your nose can grow by virtue of how much you WANT to know even though it’s not necessarily curiosity that is seeping and peeking into our subconscious defeating. But I’m not going to be preaching, standing on these knees and praying to the Old Testaments. And yet...you guessed it. Shit. Ergo, we’re feeling exactly sharp like a tack, see, on this track / “T,” with that omnipresent genie, the kundalini energy. It’s going and flowing up our backs and I feel like every single thing I say or “rap” shall get absorbed with help from the Force. Know that you can levitate, never hate, and feel every single vibration, sensation going beyond the five senses. You guessed it: It’s like a basketball game and we’re full-court pressing, defencing – “Die Another Day.” 008, okay...?

I’ve just got to say that GLORY IS TODAY.

I really do not understand

Why people can't leave things be

Why my business

Has to be theirs

Why can't I just live

In peace, without them

I just want to live out this

Meaningless thing called life

With as little obstacles as possible

So if you have nothing good

To say to me or my loved ones

Then please find the exit

You're not wanted here

A person is just

An intricate concoction

Of flower petals and scars

Mixed with wildfires and stars

They have radiance in their eyes

With darkness in their minds

And ice in their hearts

They're endless space

And ocean trenches

The tallest mountains

And the lowest valleys

They're cool lemonade on a warm summers day

And hot cocoa in a cold winters morning

They're waterfalls and deserts

But sandstorms and hurricanes

Ivy on a brick wall

And fleshy ground-cover

They're nothing more

Than fruit in the jungle

And nothing less

Than cacti in the desert

A person is just

An intricate concoction

Of nature