My heart broke into far too many pieces to count. My apathy swelled. My sorrow stole my voice. And, still, I prayed.
These past five years I've prayed for bravery.
The practice of Ashtanga Yoga healed the dark part at the back of my heart. It purified my voice. And, it brought the richness of courage to my doorstep, asking only that I keep praying, until bravery became it's own resignation: no other choice to make, because there is more work to be done, and I want to do is work more.

A riff on urdhva kukutasana a-- with a focus on sutra 3.32-- By samyama on the kurma nadi (a subtle tortoise-shaped tube located below the throat), motionlessness in the meditative posture is achieved.