Not Yoga

If only we could be like trees
carressing forever
their branches entwined
in an endless hug
growing into trunks
supporting each other
even after one dies

But we are too soft
we give way too easily
we move too fast

Better be like the butterflies
courting in the wind
a flash of speckled beauty

God looks on dispassionately

Why should I be like Him
or devote myself to Him
when I want to lose myself in you

I would do anything for you