Julian of Norwich Leads Yoga Settling before us skirts tucked wool-shrouded legs folded lotus blossoms. She knows isolation—this one—anchored within stone walls that block nothing—source, death even a hazelnut gets through. She brings palms to center & we follow moving mountain pose to warrior one. She explains, All will be well— God said that, not me while we wait legs trembling until she lets us slide downward dog arch up to cobra straining serpents. Hope is a stone we toss into a deep question & wait for a sound. We fall to happy baby & she says So I stretched, held those words like breathing. We fumble into easy pose—not her, our lady of supple, reminding us Now inhale now exhale now again for a long dream of nows until the muscles give.
Sylvia Karman’s work has appeared in Delmarva Review, Blueline, and Writing the Land, among others. She lives in the Adirondack mountains of New York and in central Maryland where she hikes and writes for the love of the journey. You can visit her at www.sylviakarman.com .