A yogi's Christmas poem

The folks over at YogaDownload shared this with me, and I couldn't help but pass it along ..

Twas the week before Christmas and all through the home,

Not a yogi was stirring, not even an OM.

The yoga mats were rolled by the chimney with care,

In hopes there would be 20 minutes to spare.

The children were nagging, not going to bed,

While visions of Wanderlust danced in my head.

With mama in her yoga pants and I in mine too,

We were deeply in need of our inner guru. 

When up on the roof there arose such a blast,

You’d think Shiva Rea was giving a free class.

And what to my wondering third eye should I see,

But Santa himself, breathing in ujjayi.

His hands placed in mudra, he looked so serene,

Sitting in lotus, right under the tree.

“Santa!” I exclaimed, “how can this be?”

“I came to align your chakras,” said he.

He rose up to standing (and his pants were see-through,

He must have bought them last year at lulu).

We rolled out our Mandukas and lit our inner flame,

And he whistled and shouted each yoga pose name.

“Now up dog, now down dog, now to chaturanga!

On cobra, on cat/cow, on parsva bakasana!”

The prana was flowing, my worries were gone,

My mantra, “I am grateful,” carried me on.

Santa, it seemed, was a wonderful mentor,

The yoga was helping me come back to center.

“Your practice need never be out of your sight,

YogaDownload is with you, all day or all night.”

And I heard him exclaim as he drove off in his sleigh,

“Merry Christmas to all, and to all Namaste!”