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Father of Compassion

July 8, 2013

by Krisna Zawaduk

Eyebrow hairs reaching out like tendrils to grasp
a hearty but trembling students eye-
Guruji, why do we fear your awesomeness?
You are the Father of Compassion,
You will not waste our time
As we have wasted yours.

Vajra-like bolts of geometric wizardry
Ricochet off the cement floors of the institute
And the grill bars
Where pre and post-surgical magic dazzles.
We are stupid
Our bodies uneducated, broken and dull
Uncultured and rigid
You accept us all
Blind, crippled, and confused,
Drowning in the whirlpool of samsara.
You throw out a thread, a brahmin’s thread
Yoga sutra threads
Will our hands be strong enough to take hold?

All the while, you are
grounded in ascension,
Intelligence flowing steadily through your toe roots
And fingernails
You are dog, cobra and lion
Bark, hiss and roar!
Anahata chuckle
And mischievous smile,
Let us not miss your playfulness.

The wrinkles of disapproval on your face
Are blasted away suddenly by your luminescent Self
As you coil backwards
Over a rope swing
Your feet seeking, no, arriving!
At freedom.
The skin of your chest as smooth and taut as an adolescent’s
90-something year old bones?
Probably your marrow also denies the passage of time.
You stay in that backbend
Arms outstretched, elbows firm, armpits radiating like the sun,
For an indeterminable time,
Invisible in your stillness.

Elemental man
Nostrils of fire, earth, water, air and ether,
Like mercury
Your body pours from the chalice of sirsasana into dwi pada viparita dandasana.
Light as the peacock feather that adorns Krishna’s headdress,
You are also the weighty one
Who churns our seas and oceans
Of complacency and comfort.
You prick, penetrate, cut and deepen
with the sword of discrimination--
Yours is the art of transcendence.

Your eyes open- ekagrata!
You say with sadness from the yogi’s trapeze
That the art of yoga will die with your body.
Oh Father of Compassion
While every cell of your body dances in delight
We are obsessed with mechanics and semantics and
Ignore your transmission.

Guruji
With the long arms reminiscent of Hanuman
You distribute the gifts of awareness and wood blocks.
True relinquisher
Even your Name has been an offering to us.
108, 1008, 10800 pranams are not enough
We are indebted-

 

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