Lyrics

Yuj…

to join,
to yoke,
to remember
what was never truly separate.

I have lived in halves before,
body here and mind elsewhere,
reaching upward for the sacred
while forgetting I was there.

Earth beneath me, sky within me,
breath becoming something whole,
every inhale pulls me inward,
every exhale lets me go.

Not one against the other.
Not one becoming less.

The strength inside the softness.
The softness inside strength.

Yoga —
unite me.

Body and soul,
shadow and light,
the part of me that reaches,
the part that knows surrender right.

Yoga
unite me.

With the rhythm underneath,
with the universe around me,
with the silence in the breath.

I was never made of pieces.

I was learning how to see
that what I kept dividing
was already one in me.

Feminine like open water,
masculine like rooted flame,
one receives and one gives structure,
neither needing to be named.

Śakti moving through the body,
Śiva still beneath the sound,
motion rising out of silence,
silence holding motion down.

Sun and moon within the breathing,
ha and tha beneath the skin,
every opposite a doorway,
every ending folding in.

Not choosing one forever.
Not trying to transcend.

Balance is not stillness —
it is knowing how to bend.

Yoga —
unite me.

Body and soul,
shadow and light,
the part of me that reaches,
the part that knows surrender right.

Yoga —
unite me.

With the rhythm underneath,
with the universe around me,
with the silence in the breath.

I was never made of pieces.

I was learning how to see
that what I kept dividing
was already one in me.

Purusha in the witnessing.
Prakriti in every form.

One is still enough to notice.
One becomes the moving storm.

Maybe union isn’t merging.
Maybe wholeness isn’t two made one.

Maybe it is seeing clearly
how the many face the sun.

Ida, Pingala —
left and right,
lunar softness,
solar light.

Where they meet,
the breath grows quiet.

Where they meet,
I stop dividing.

Not heaven over body.
Not spirit over earth.

Not masculine above the feminine.
Not silence above the words.

Let everything belong here.
Let every current have its place.
Let the human and the holy
recognize the same face.

Yoga —
unite me.

Body and soul,
matter and light,
every part I tried to exile,
every truth I held too tight.

Yoga —
unite me.

Not by making me complete.

By reminding me that wholeness
was already underneath.

With the earth.
With the breath.
With the body.
With the sky.

With the love that moves through everything
and never asks me why.

Yoga —
not becoming one.

Remembering
I never wasn’t.

Yuj…
to join.
To return.
To remember.