Poem · Poetry · Uncategorized

The Heart of It All

 

The hand that grasps and controls

is the same hand

that lets go.

 

The mind that sorts and decides

is the same mind  

that can be opened by mystery

or pain.

 

The eyes that do not really see

but look past,

are the same ones

that can catch the vision

of truth.

 

We are but soft clay

yet we act as if cast in stone –

armored in our ways.

But life is not done shaping us.

Changes always come to

meet us where we are

and show us another way.

 

The time for invocation is here.

So lift up your sad, stiff heart –

mistakenly broken by you alone –

and ask Life to soften it.

For the heart of it all,

it seems,

is to be anchored in softness –

so you can be ready for anything.

Copyright© Cynthia Cady Stanton, 2019

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