Flow

There’s something I feel is repressing,

Something trying to limit my expressing..

But in yoga my words can flow, like there’s no limits above or below;

When I try to structure my sentence for basic instruction,

That’s where I meet with my ugly obstruction..

 

I love to dance with the rhythm of each sound,

Finding it can be quite profound..

To express ones own uniqueness, showing of ourselves simply our best;

Rather than working to always be so concise,

My brain bores quickly trying make speech overly precise..

 

I live in colour,

What’s the point in anything other?..

Everything in my world seems more bright, each time I give up this outward internal fight..

If one could simply express without fear or feeling disturbed,

Perhaps my communications would be less perturbed?..