01/04/2026
On a quiet morning, springs softly sigh,
The waits nearby.
A carriage glides with a whispered squeakâ
But Iâm not alone in the balance I seek.
A golden paw taps the moving frame,
As if to say, âLetâs play your game.â
Downward stretch meets a wagging tail,
While focus and fur begin to mingle and trail.
A terrier weaves through the straps with flair,
A yoga mat thief with a confident stare.
She tunnels beneath as I lengthen my spine,
Turning precision to chaosâyet somehow divine.
âCore engaged,â I murmur, trying to breathe,
But a lick on my cheek interrupts mid-sequence three.
A fluffy one barks at the springsâ soft chime,
As if keeping rhythmâor counting my time.
Feet in straps, I circle with grace,
While a Lhasa studies my concentrated face.
She mirrors my stillness, then suddenly sneezesâ
Enlightenment lost to doggy nose wheezes.
Yet in this odd, delightful quartet,
No perfect form, no rigid setâ
Just laughter woven with every rep,
And joy in each unpredictable step.
For strength isnât only the muscles we train,
But the moments of madness that soften the strain.
And somewhere between the stretch and the spin,
We find that the real workout lives withinâ
Among wagging tails and curious eyes,
Where discipline dances and seriousness dies.