The leader says this pose looks easy,
but relaxing is very difficult for many.
Savasana, lying like a corpse, but conscious.
No more struggling, awareness, tension subsiding slowly –
my mind wandering onto a dark path.
There are 1440 minutes in a day.
The nurse tells me my heart beats
80 times per minute – 115,200 a day.
So many moments, exacting products of distance
multiplied by the charge of absent love.
* Though a “moment” is an inexact measure of time, in physics, it is something that can be calculated using a formula.
The plan was never to do this.
But somewhere in this life’s Middle Ages,
plans faded and were difficult to follow.
Comfortable in what we had made,
frightened to turn a new blank page.
A new year is drawn but shows
days recently erased still beneath. It’s repentance.
It has a long life. It bleeds
through the new work, day, life
and haunts the wet, freshly painted present.
Picasso’s 1901 Blue Period painting The Blue Room under infrared imaging revealed another portrait underneath the room scene. This pentimento is a bearded man in formal wear wearing a number of rings on his fingers. Did Pablo run out of money for a new canvas, or did he regret what he had painted?
That point on a convex curve where
upward becomes downward concave or vice versa.
In retrospect, a moment when it changed.
Things might have improved or just disrupted.
A turning point, when it all deteriorated.