The yoga mats were rolled by the chimney with care,
In hopes there would be 20 minutes to spare.
The children were bustling – not going to bed,
While visions of Wanderlust danced in my head.
With mama in her yoga pants and I in mine too,
We were deeply in need of our inner guru.
When up on the roof there arose such a blast,
You’d think Ana Forrest was giving a free class.
Away to the window I flew and proceeded
To realize more stress was the last thing I needed.
And what to my wondering third eye should I see,
But Santa himself, breathing in ujjayi.
Dressed all in lycra from his heels to his belly,
His bandhas were locked and I felt kinda jelly.
Breaking from cookies and milky libations,
Santa was in my living room for sun salutations.
"Come join me," he said, "dear, you've been so busy.
Your practice will help you get out of this tizzy."
We rolled out our Mandukas and fanned our soul flame,
And he whistled and shouted each yoga pose name.
“Now up dog, now down dog, chaturanga!
On cobra, on cat/cow, on parsva bakasana.”
The prana was flowing, my worries had fled,
I practiced acceptance, had nothing to dread.
And I said to Santa, that jolly old elfie,
"Do you mind if we take a quick yoga selfie?"
He chuckled and shook his head in abstention,
"No thank you, my dear, that's not my intention."
Santa, it seemed, was a wonderful mentor,
The yoga was helping me come back to center.
“Your practice need never be out of your sight,
YogaDownload is with you, all day or all night.”
And I heard him exclaim as he drove off in his sleigh,
“Merry Christmas to all, and to all Namaste!”
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