3.7

#Adiyog

(in memory of Amanda Beckles)

It's supposed to bring you joy,
this prana

C18H10N2O4,
C18H10N4O2,
C7H8N4O2

In chocolate, coffee,
or milky mocha like your melanin skin;
every other day you combined
nitrogen
that building block
with something deep within
to help others recover
from that tower block.

It is supposed to be a laughing gas;
that is why the Rwandans danced together.

Once, alone together, we shared asana.
Now you speak to me
in Shiva's unmistakable silence;
freed from Parvarti and the poverty of the elites.

A kundalini queen once told me
one cannot live on a mountain alone
but there's no shortage of company here:
Everest is littered with the bones of those
who did not know when to take a break;
very few of those bones belong to sherpas.
I wanted to be your guide
I still do I think
I always will.

Jnana seeking sukh but stuck in sthira
by the sight of smoking stairwells.
There are thirty three hells; levels of
burning like that night on the Lancaster West Estate when part of you was bested;
asphyxiated,
from a distance.

You held your prana
as long as you could
Hetepu beloved.
Come forth by day.