Yoga teacher, mama, dreamer with curls,
Lover of rivers, of meadows, of swirls —
of leggings that hug me, of croissants at dawn,
of laughter that lingers long after it’s gone.

Fearless? Not always — but honest, and kind.

I fall, I rise, I breathe, I unwind.
With pistachio cream on far too much toast,
and a child who teaches me more than most.

I cry at the end when savasana sings,
play chords on my uke with trembling strings.

I teach with my heart, not needing to prove —
just guiding you gently to breathe and to move.

We twist, we expand, we soften, we stay,
we practice becoming a little each day.
No masks, just moments — of silence or song.
Not always so fearless… but always so strong.