Poetry

Alixa Doom

Sestina In Praise of Qigong

Common Ground Meditation Center, Minneapolis

A dozen of us, legs held strong for body sways,
arms swinging back and forth through the air,
feel the gentle rocking of a world in motion.
Hands lift to hold the light of the moon,
then float on a breeze with silky softness.
Between heaven and earth there is no separation.

The space between us is not a separation
but something we float in while the earth sways
and the body’s edges dissolve into softness.
An entire universe releases its hold to air,
and passes through us like the moon
while we float in unison on our feathery motion.

Rooted in our bare feet, a rainbow swings into motion;
between earth and sky there is no separation.
We arc with colors, curve like a new moon;
supple as willow we ground our sways.
Wild geese wobbling release into the air,
weaving dark flights with lofty softness.

The heart of night holds hushed softness
and the wildness of geese passing, brief as emotion,
like the ruckus of lotus leaves rustling the air.
Between water and mud there is no separation;
from darkness the lotus rises and sways,
roots trembling in water startled by the moon.

From the horizon at our waistline, magic as a moon,
a dragon, its power striding an ocean of softness—
our feet firm on earth support the sways.
Hands passing by face become clouds in motion;
we and clouds are not a separate nation,
relaxing and expanding we exhale the same air.

Lifting our arms like oars through the air
we row across a big lake calm as a moon;
our boat is our body, there is no separation.
The flying dove unwraps wings with dusky softness
and we spread our arms with the same motion,
fold sky into our heart as an entire world sways.

A windmill turning through air in mid-morning softness,
we stir up the moon in our bones with rotating motion –
there is no separation, everything sways.