In February, 2017, I had the pleasure of participating on a yoga retreat with 8 limbs yoga at Haramara Retreat in Sayulita, Mexico. Every other night, water ‘disappeared’ from a beautiful clay bowl placed on the path just above our casita. This poem flows from that time. Enjoy.
Daily, the light brown clay bowl
on the path outside our casita
is filled with flower petals and water –
an offering perhaps?
In the darkness of night
from the cocoon of my mosquito netted bed
come sounds of slurping,
Something scurries across the thatched roof,
waking me from slumber.
More sounds of splashing, lapping, slurping –
too tired and frightened to leave the safety of my cosy bed.
What magic is afoot?
with the sun beginning to warm
the forested tropical hills,
we climb the stairs:
tossed and turned,
clustered at the base of the empty clay vessel.
Mystery solved –
there was a party in the bowl.