Poem · Poetry · Uncategorized

In the Deep Blue

 

With eyes closed

and distractions put away,

I settle and still.

Muscles release and

gradually, breathing deepens.

I am quiet.

Sensing an opportunity to connect

in silence,

my cat curls into my lap.

I look inward and notice things and 

gradually release the grip –

that way of being 

which contracts me.

I let go.

Soon, the colors arrive –

they move about in my awareness

and before my mind’s eye.

I see red and green,

purple – and finally blue.

When I get to the deepening blue,

I am touching awareness and 

I disappear for some time.

It does not scare me to disappear…

but feels like freedom.

The deep blue teaches me 

in ways that soothe.

In its presence, I become one with

the breath of creation.

I flow with the ocean waves,

glow with the trees,

and share the song of the birds.

I see the eyes of Love

looking back at me.

The wisdom of the ages finds me

and its touch heals.

In the deep blue,

I learn that God is real, and

in my very being.

In the deep blue,

there is peace.

I bring it with me.

Copyright© Cynthia Cady Stanton, 2019

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Poem · Poetry · Uncategorized

In the Chill of Winter

 

In the chill of winter,

build a fire big enough

to warm

your fingers and toes.

Allow the warmth 

to travel to

your center –

let the grip of

cold and contraction

relax.

As you loosen and warm,

release your fear

of harsh winds

and insidious ice

which, in its blackness,

sneaks up on you

and threatens to knock you down.

 

In the chill of winter,

burn with awareness.

Let go of complaining

and resistance,

for they hasten the cold

to root in your being.

Instead, look to creation.

Honor the season.

What can the cold teach us?

The trees do not argue.

The squirrels settle in.

The birds accept the change

and move southward. 

The plants rest.

All of nature flows with the seasons.

So, in the chill of winter,

build a fire,

rest and be warm,

discover wonder and joy

at the coating of the white –

a pure dusting 

which baptizes in beauty,

reflecting the light.

Let this inspire you, and

when you are ready,

learn to play with the cold.

Build a snowman.

Copyright© Cynthia Cady Stanton, 2019

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Poem · Poetry · Uncategorized

Be a Tree

 

You can stand in your ground

with roots that grasp to

all that matters

and holds you in place.

You can reach for the light and

blossom in its glow.

You bloom and grow,

bloom and grow –

shedding what is no longer needed,

in the appropriate season.

Other beings are attracted to you…

they sense your peace.

Its good to allow them

to hug you,

and be in your presence.

For sharing the strength and life

of your core

brings healing –

and releases the knots of

tension and contraction which cause

unnecessary twisting.

As the winds and storms arrive,

remember who you are.

You are not the weather.

You are a tree.

You observe.

You lend air.

You stand tall and alert, and

your stillness blesses.

Copyright © Cynthia Cady Stanton, 2019

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Poem · Poetry · Uncategorized

Another Year

 

As in a game that stacks,

each brick a year in length,

we add them to the pile,

observing how they stay.

Some years there is more wobble,

stability stressed by balance.

Some years the heights are awesome,

our vision stretched and soaring.

The years they come so swiftly…

we sing this song together.

Life has a way of moving

each moment easily lost.

We long to learn the secret…

         Who builds this life we live?

We look at its construction,

our gratitude gives us vision.

 

Copyright© Cynthia Cady Stanton, 2019

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Poem · Poetry · Uncategorized

When Loved Ones Return

Its a strange gathering –

all of us in our cars at the airport

anxious and watchful for that familiar smile and gait

to be seen among the masses…

Everyone is searching for that connection

to home.

It is like the perfect metaphor for life…

for daily we get lost in the crowdedness

of others in our space

as we journey anxiously –

searching and expectant –

until we are finally recognized, and

our place in the midst of it all

is secured.

We understand where we belong.

Now parked and watchful –

cell phones busy with directions,

our eyes finally meet.

Once bags are stowed, 

and the heated car is filled,

the lively chatter of connection begins.

We navigate the traffic,

and reach the hearth and tree alighted,

exhausted in a happy way.

My daughter releases her bag to the floor –

“I didn’t hug you yet.”

Arms wrap around,

and eager hearts touch.

Christmas has arrived.

Copyright© Cynthia Cady Stanton, 2018

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Poem · Poetry · Uncategorized

Short and Sweet

To be a poet,

wake up with wings poised to 

float on your morning breath.

Let your eyes open as windows

that God may see.

Turn on the inner flame

and alight the senses.

Choose to be the love

you seek to understand.

Be watchful as

the words arrive

and sing faithfully

from the heart of your soul.

Surrender to how

they change you

as the poem 

is born.

Copyright© Cynthia Cady Stanton, 2018

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Poem · Poetry · Uncategorized

Holly Jolly

 

Little goofy snowmen –

Their grins imperfect and sweet, cause

me to giggle inside

and step a little more lightly, so

a smile forms in me,

too.

 

Christmas songs in the car

blaring and sometimes irritating, but

still able to get me singing, freeing

me from caring what

others might think, because

no one can hear me.

They connect me, nevertheless

to childhood Christmas bliss, which

warms me deeply, and

brings a twinkle to my eyes.

 

The Christmas season lingers

longer than in past years…

so much of it is commercial, but

hopefully, it is also spiritual.

 

Perhaps, in these times when

connecting deeply to life seems harder,

we need the simple uplift

of silly snowmen, and

familiar holiday songs, to

be less weighted down.

One can hope, in the elevation provided, that

the vision of the Christ child

in a manger, surrounded

by a loving family –

friendly animals and kings – and

blanketed by angels – 

can inspire us enough to

bring our lifted spirits to

meet each moment

in this great life

given.

In this way,

Christmas joy can become

never-ending –

the true gift of the season.

Copyright© Cynthia Cady Stanton, 2018

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