Coconut Canoe

mad
angry at herself
hurt.  on the inside.
so desperately wanting to please
with no idea how to do it.
good moods, happy, dashed in a second
with a girl that's quick to anger
she's lost her yoga self.
no longer flexible in body or mind,
but mostly mind.
so quick to overheat, so quick to misunderstand.
this girl has lost her mind's flexibility. and it hurts.  it hurts.
this isn't who I am,
she says,
but the crowd turns their back to watch
the next incoming act
the act that's so much flashier and prettier, and calm and elemental.
they turn their back on the girl that is sitting
in the mud
trying to figure out
how it all went wrong.

the tears flow down, but they just step over her
careful to avoid her
not wanting to ask what's wrong
to find out that it's not the situation.
it's not what made her angry.
she's lost her oars to her
coconut canoe
the canoe that is supposed to guide her
show her, carry her, work with her.
her oars are lost and she is directionless.
come over to the shore, they say.  
she tries to paddle with her hands but she doesn't get very far
and the sun feels so hot on her face.
on her very hot face.
she weeps in the middle of the coconut canoe,
and when she sits back up,
she discovers she's no longer there
she's sitting in the mud
while everyone else
rushes
to the jobs they are supposed to be doing
but her legs are covered in mud
and she can't find
her coconut canoe.