Among the activities of our local Parks and Recreation Department are youth sports (including cheerleading), a genealogy class, bingo, adult softball, “track chair” outings, gymnastics, Taekwondo, a class on identifying and removing invasive plants, and yoga.

The yoga offered may not strictly conform to any of the seven modern varieties or schools (other than the fact that classes are held in a repurposed school building!), but is exactly what most participants need and want. Frankly, there are as many species of yoga as there are individuals: every one’s grimace is DNA different.

The class is scheduled two times a week with a varying number of participants, maxing at about thirty.  Occasionally, another male shows up, but I am usually the only one among the generally older women.

Though yoga (meaning union) is an ancient practice of physical, mental, and spiritual discipline, the latter two aspects are not emphasized in our class. The traditional object is to unite the personal consciousness with the universal consciousness. Despite this historical/academic background, much of yoga practice centers on hatha or physical exercises.

In our class there is no competition.  Each person strives or strains as they are able or inclined without pulling a muscle or spraining a joint. But just the right combination for strength, flexibility, and balance development.

The idea of hatha yoga is simple. One places body, limbs and all, in prescribed poses (asanas) which are held for various lengths of time. Some active stretching and aerobic movement are introduced.

One aspect of this activity which amuses me is the descriptive names of the contortions: mountain pose, lion, peacock, crow, cobra, locust, tree, and fish among them. In our class we work on warrior pose, cat-cow and bicycles (elbow-to-knee, elbow-to-knee) downward facing dog and picking peaches pose. But playful me, I think of alternative imitations: the manatee pose, tea-pot pose, half-moon pose, the equinox pose (for balance), raspberry-picking pose, scarecrow pose, and so on.

Along with this wry attitude, no disrespect intended, I have written some short poems (“Imitations”) on the subject:

Vrikshasana

Practice the tree pose as if dormant, sap down,
no more than a gentle wind.
Let birds fly through you
like memories you no longer recall.
The lichen which itches reminds you
that north is only one direction.
Your sole warms the small patch of ground
that balance struggles to call its own.

Simhasana

As a lion, you growl deep within,
adrenaline raising the hair
at the back of your neck.
Your joints crack; hernia, hemorrhoids scream.
Stalking in parabolas, you rediscover the pounce,
the desire which leaves you hungry.
Surprise vanishes and you are consumed
with fatigue, feel like becoming extinct.

Mayurasana

Harder than courage the peacock sustains
a pride without the foibles of ego.
The beauty is evident, almost obnoxious,
like patch-work quilts, coloring mankind
in different shades of shame.

Kakasana

To be a crow, balance on arms which are feet,
legs crouched up like wings,
head the crow’s head bobbing with each cry
and reciting epithet.
Your concerns are his concerns,
your legacy, his legacy,
but in wildest dreams, you will never
fly his shortest distance.

Savasana

Don’t feel too comfortable in the corpse pose.

Fred Wilbur has written in varied genres including essays and blogs, historical research, newspaper columns, magazine articles, book reviews, and book introductions. He has also published three volumes of poetry, and three how-to woodcarving instruction books. His poetry collections are As Pus Floats the Splinter Out, Conjugation of Perhaps, and The Heft of Promise (Pine Row Press, 2025). The Nelson County Garden Club: The First Fifty Years, 1935-1985 was underwritten by the Nelson County Historical Society (2023).