At the beginning of our practice
the instructor reads a poem by Mary Oliver.
After a day of sitting at desks, we close our eyes
and imagine the sun melting into the horizon.
We surrender the day’s worries to the hum of her voice.

Rain slashes the star magnolia outside the glass walls,
but inside the room we relax into our stillness.
In each posture we create space within ourselves.
We do sun salutations with integrity,
sweeping up and stetching, like we mean it.
She invites each of us to make an intention.

During shavasana, she rereads the poem, slowly.
We return to our starting posture,
bow to the spirit in each other,
roll up the mats, leave the housekeeper a tip,
and float out into the day.