The pull of patterns weighs me down
and sucks me in
to that space that agitates
and darkens the room
keeping me from the lightness
that beckons deeply.
Even with you,
though I longed to be next to you
after seasons apart,
what is new and better and different
struggles to shine.
We settle for old and familiar,
the constrictions
set long ago.
I want you to know me.
Not the me you think you know,
but the evolving me
that dares to bloom
even at my age,
when most settle for being set.
I’m not.
I am a dynamic canvas.
Copyright © 2017 Cynthia Cady Stanton
Becoming and Beholding 