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	<title>BarefootAndUpsideDown &#187; BLOG</title>
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	<description>Yoga as life, love, laughter. Yoga as mind, body, spirit. Yoga as play, challenge, insight. Yoga as art, music, poetry. Yoga as coming home.</description>
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	<itunes:summary>Yoga as life, love, laughter. Yoga as mind, body, spirit. Yoga as play, challenge, insight. Yoga as art, music, poetry. Yoga as coming home.</itunes:summary>
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		<title>Village Christmas Poem Podcast</title>
		<link>http://barefootandupsidedown.com/2008/12/village-christmas-podcast/</link>
		<comments>http://barefootandupsidedown.com/2008/12/village-christmas-podcast/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Thu, 25 Dec 2008 02:45:00 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>carolyn aka LaughingYogini</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Poetry]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[carolyn grady]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Christmas Eve]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Fredonia NY]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[poem]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[sestina]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://laughingyogini.com/?p=1031</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[Village Christmas Driving into Fredonia from the dark fields and vineyards outside of my somnambulistic village, the white lights wink alive and awake on Sycamore trees while the old fashioned buildings welcome the stranger that I am tonight. I see this place as if for the first time, now. My travels in cities blazing and [...]


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<h3></h3>
<h1><span style="color: #ff0000;">Village Christmas</span></h1>
<p><strong><span style="color: #008000;">Driving into Fredonia from the dark</span></strong></p>
<p><strong><span style="color: #008000;">fields and vineyards outside</span></strong></p>
<p><strong><span style="color: #008000;">of my somnambulistic village,</span></strong></p>
<p><strong><span style="color: #008000;">the white lights wink alive and awake on Sycamore trees</span></strong></p>
<p><strong><span style="color: #008000;">while the old fashioned buildings</span></strong></p>
<p><strong><span style="color: #008000;">welcome the stranger that I am tonight.</span></strong></p>
<p><strong><span style="color: #008000;"><br />
 </span></strong></p>
<p><strong><span style="color: #008000;">I see this place as if for the first time, now.</span></strong></p>
<p><strong><span style="color: #008000;">My travels in cities blazing and dark</span></strong></p>
<p><strong><span style="color: #008000;">are over. There&#8217;s a welcome in these buildings,</span></strong></p>
<p><strong><span style="color: #008000;">handsful of comfort in old snow on the Commons&#8217; Christmas tree.</span></strong></p>
<p><strong><span style="color: #008000;">The 19th Century fountains dance with lights. Village</span></strong></p>
<p><strong><span style="color: #008000;"><br />
 </span></strong></p>
<p><strong><span style="color: #008000;">hall smiles, full of white lighted windows. Village</span></strong></p>
<p><strong><span style="color: #008000;">gazebo appears a playful carousel of spirit tonight.</span></strong></p>
<p><strong><span style="color: #008000;">Shocking wind rustles the last leaves on trees</span></strong></p>
<p><strong><span style="color: #008000;">lining Barker Square. Snow clouds pounce, dark,</span></strong></p>
<p><strong><span style="color: #008000;">and laden with Erie&#8217;s energy on Temple and Main. Outside,</span></strong></p>
<p><strong><span style="color: #008000;">the green bushes wiggle with chill. Brick buildings</span></strong></p>
<p><strong><span style="color: #008000;"><br />
 </span></strong></p>
<p><strong><span style="color: #008000;">croon comfort to the traveler. Stalwart buildings</span></strong></p>
<p><strong><span style="color: #008000;">stand the lake storm now buffeting the village.</span></strong></p>
<p><strong><span style="color: #008000;">And I, weary with this century&#8217;s motion, lean outside</span></strong></p>
<p><strong><span style="color: #008000;">the Opera House humming an aria. Tonight</span></strong></p>
<p><strong><span style="color: #008000;">I hum fiercely, letting loose the dark</span></strong></p>
<p><strong><span style="color: #008000;">tones I have collected. Evergreen trees</span></strong></p>
<p><strong><span style="color: #008000;"><br />
 </span></strong></p>
<p><strong><span style="color: #008000;">blow back the tunes on their boughs. Silver maple trees</span></strong></p>
<p><strong><span style="color: #008000;">drop their dead limbs. Watch them bounce against buildings.</span></strong></p>
<p><strong><span style="color: #008000;">They fall quiet. They do what the they must tonight.</span></strong></p>
<p><strong><span style="color: #008000;">I stop humming, disoriented in this village.</span></strong></p>
<p><strong><span style="color: #008000;">Confusion is striking on Christmas Eve.</span></strong></p>
<p><strong><span style="color: #008000;">The world, tearing itself apart, tries to break me. A facade</span></strong></p>
<p><strong><span style="color: #008000;"><br />
 </span></strong></p>
<p><strong><span style="color: #008000;">of a quiet birth is miracle enough to have survived outside</span></strong></p>
<p><strong><span style="color: #008000;">this numbing storm. The bare Ginko trees</span></strong></p>
<p><strong><span style="color: #008000;">on Central Avenue are as foreign as Bethlehem tonight.</span></strong></p>
<p><strong><span style="color: #008000;">I hold on to the solid brick of the Russo building</span></strong></p>
<p><strong><span style="color: #008000;">and wait for the snow to pass through the village.</span></strong></p>
<p><strong><span style="color: #008000;">Then there is only the winking of little lights in darkness.</span></strong></p>
<p><strong><span style="color: #008000;"><br />
 </span></strong></p>
<p><strong><span style="color: #008000;">The century turns outside these buildings.</span></strong></p>
<p><strong><span style="color: #008000;">Lit spires of trees in Fredonia</span></strong></p>
<p><strong><span style="color: #008000;">on Christmas Eve, glimmer in winter&#8217;s storm and dark.<br />
 </span></strong></p>
<p><strong><span style="color: #008000;"><br />
 </span></strong></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in -0.1in 0.0001pt 1.5in; line-height: 12pt;"><span style="color: #003300;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;"> </span></span></p>


<p>No related posts.</p>]]></content:encoded>
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		<slash:comments>3</slash:comments>
			<enclosure url="http://laughingyogini.com/blog/wp-content/uploads/village_christmas.mp3" length="1" type="audio/mpeg" />
		<itunes:duration>00:01:01</itunes:duration>
		<itunes:subtitle>Village Christmas
Driving into Fredonia from the dark
fields and vineyards outside
of my somnambulistic village,
the white lights wink alive and awake on Sycamore trees
while the old fashioned ...</itunes:subtitle>
		<itunes:summary>Village Christmas
Driving into Fredonia from the dark
fields and vineyards outside
of my somnambulistic village,
the white lights wink alive and awake on Sycamore trees
while the old fashioned buildings
welcome the stranger that I am tonight.

 
I see this place as if for the first time, now.
My travels in cities blazing and dark
are over. There's a welcome in these buildings,
handsful of comfort in old snow on the Commons' Christmas tree.
The 19th Century fountains dance with lights. Village

 
hall smiles, full of white lighted windows. Village
gazebo appears a playful carousel of spirit tonight.
Shocking wind rustles the last leaves on trees
lining Barker Square. Snow clouds pounce, dark,
and laden with Erie's energy on Temple and Main. Outside,
the green bushes wiggle with chill. Brick buildings

 
croon comfort to the traveler. Stalwart buildings
stand the lake storm now buffeting the village.
And I, weary with this century's motion, lean outside
the Opera House humming an aria. Tonight
I hum fiercely, letting loose the dark
tones I have collected. Evergreen trees

 
blow back the tunes on their boughs. Silver maple trees
drop their dead limbs. Watch them bounce against buildings.
They fall quiet. They do what the they must tonight.
I stop humming, disoriented in this village.
Confusion is striking on Christmas Eve.
The world, tearing itself apart, tries to break me. A facade

 
of a quiet birth is miracle enough to have survived outside
this numbing storm. The bare Ginko trees
on Central Avenue are as foreign as Bethlehem tonight.
I hold on to the solid brick of the Russo building
and wait for the snow to pass through the village.
Then there is only the winking of little lights in darkness.

 
The century turns outside these buildings.
Lit spires of trees in Fredonia
on Christmas Eve, glimmer in winter's storm and dark.
 

 
 


No related posts.</itunes:summary>
		<itunes:keywords>Poetry</itunes:keywords>
		<itunes:author>yogini@laughingyogini.com</itunes:author>
		<itunes:explicit>no</itunes:explicit>
		<itunes:block>no</itunes:block>
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		<title>centering podcast</title>
		<link>http://barefootandupsidedown.com/2008/11/centering-podcast/</link>
		<comments>http://barefootandupsidedown.com/2008/11/centering-podcast/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Wed, 19 Nov 2008 04:09:55 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>carolyn aka LaughingYogini</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Relaxation]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[breath work]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[centering]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[exhalation]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[podcast]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[relaxation]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://laughingyogini.com/?p=672</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[Here it is~Laughing Yogini&#8217;s inaugural podcast : centering. You can use it as a stand-alone, short relaxation or you can use it as a prelude to yoga asana practice. It is meant for practicing, so shut the door, turn off your cell phone and begin to breathe mindfully with me. What fun! If you&#8217;ve never [...]


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<h1 style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #008080;">Here it is~Laughing Yogini&#8217;s inaugural podcast : centering.</span></h1>
<h2>You can use it as a stand-alone, short relaxation or you can use it as a prelude to yoga asana practice. It is meant for practicing, so shut the door, turn off your cell phone and begin to breathe mindfully with me. What fun! If you&#8217;ve never ever experienced guided relaxation, hang on Cowgirl— you&#8217;re in for a change.</h2>
<div id="attachment_674" class="wp-caption alignnone" style="width: 332px"><a href="http://laughingyogini.com/blog/wp-content/uploads/2008/11/warrior-3-emerald-isle-nc.jpg"><img class="size-full wp-image-674" title="warrior-3-emerald-isle-nc" src="http://laughingyogini.com/blog/wp-content/uploads/2008/11/warrior-3-emerald-isle-nc.jpg" alt="" width="322" height="199" /></a><p class="wp-caption-text">Emerald Isle NC: Warrior 3 (SPrusinski photo)</p></div>


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			<enclosure url="http://laughingyogini.com/blog/wp-content/uploads/centering.mp3" length="9663344" type="audio/mpeg" />
		<itunes:duration>10:04</itunes:duration>
		<itunes:subtitle>Here it is~Laughing Yogini's inaugural podcast : centering.
You can use it as a stand-alone, short relaxation or you can use it as a prelude to ...</itunes:subtitle>
		<itunes:summary>Here it is~Laughing Yogini's inaugural podcast : centering.
You can use it as a stand-alone, short relaxation or you can use it as a prelude to yoga asana practice. It is meant for practicing, so shut the door, turn off your cell phone and begin to breathe mindfully with me. What fun! If you've never ever experienced guided relaxation, hang on Cowgirl— you're in for a change.
[caption id="attachment_674" align="alignnone" width="322" caption="Emerald Isle NC: Warrior 3 (SPrusinski photo)"][/caption]

No related posts.</itunes:summary>
		<itunes:keywords>Relaxation</itunes:keywords>
		<itunes:author>yogini@laughingyogini.com</itunes:author>
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