Poem · Poetry

True Nourishment

We mean well.

We want to do the right thing,

for our health –

in this body.

We research,

we ponder,

we constantly switch gears…

             our poor, confused pantry.

Our mind spins along with the

grocery list.

How do we feed this body,

this temple,

this home?

Does the flower question the sun?

Does the tree even think about the soil?

No, they just bloom and grow,

guided in the ways to stretch.

Does the hungry child refuse the rice bowl –

freely given?

Food is food.

Perhaps it is time 

for a big serving of gratitude…

and instead of seeking answers

outside ourselves,

to look inward,

and trust the wisdom within.

Our bodies know

what nourishes best.

Listen –

                and let go of the struggle.

In this way,

your world can open into

a beautiful freedom –

and lasting health

can be born.

Copyright© Cynthia Cady Stanton, 2018

Poem · Poetry

Signal Lights

With the guiding of inspiration,

they come through me,

pointing the way.

Their clarity can be piercing –

sharp and brilliant,

beacons through my

self-created fog.

I wonder at how

they show up-

just when I need them the most.

They are like friends who

know when a smile or a hug

is needed.

And, in the same way,

they are cherished, unconditionally.

This is what my poems mean for me.

I help create them, but

do not quite live them yet.

They love me still.

Funny, how words create worlds…

the beyond is brought forth

in the same way

a kiss presents affection.

Copyright© Cynthia Cady Stanton, 2018

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Poem · Poetry

This is It

The cat purring in my lap

while the birds sing their morning song…

My heartbeat,

strong and regular,

sending the vibration of vitality everywhere –

to my very fingertips and toes,

opening my eyes,

and lighting up my taste buds.

It travels past

all the aches and pains,

those spots that distract and annoy.

The pain cannot stop its movement,

but is touched by its energy –

kissed by the whispers of hope.

               One day you won’t need this pain…

The promise of a new day

is the reliable reboot given every morning.

Perhaps this is the day

I will finally see,

not only with my eyes,

but with my whole being,

that

                 this is it.

No more will I wait

for my turn,

holding back and waiting

for that perfect moment

                that never comes.

Life is here now,

and ever so fleeting.

It passes before me,

it beats within me,

it connects me 

to all that matters.

Life lives on through me

even when I am pressing the brakes.

It moves forward,

with or without me.

This is it –

the blessings are here.

Copyright© Cynthia Cady Stanton, 2018

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Poem · Poetry

Beyond Chasing Tail

Round and round we go,

looping and repeating,

distracted with ourselves –

chasing tail.

Transformation comes only

when we lose interest

in this game –

when it finally dawns on us

how much time,

and how much energy

is lost

               in the constant spinning.

It is the miracle 

of the pause

which lifts us up

and out –

and helps us connect

to what is real and true.

We discover the wonder of rest, and

in the birth of this realization, 

we learn to drop the chase.

We are finally free.

Copyright© Cynthia Cady Stanton, 2018

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Poem · Poetry

Gradually Getting It

Here is the nub of it all:

Like a white birch tree,

along a rocky shore,

I am most beautiful, healthy, and free,

when I am part of

the whole picture,

blending into the larger scene.

Standing alone,

 while interesting,

makes the tree more 

vulnerable to the wind and weather.

One has to ask,

              What will happen if I drop my striving and planning?

More and more,

this question arrives, and

I dare to loosen my grip,

embracing the magic

of trust and letting go –

I follow inspiration,

and stop making it all

about me.

Copyright© Cynthia Cady Stanton, 2018

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Poem · Poetry

Then Sings My Soul

 

When wanting meets realization

and dis-ease catches a glimpse

of healing,

my eyes spring open –

and I can see, once again,

how You are right here,

right here.

Life is a beautiful dance.

The music always plays,

with You leading my steps,

and I, in faith, following,

sometimes tripping along-

crying or laughing my way forward –

humbled by my missteps,

and blessed when I move

with grace.

Nevertheless,

and more and more,

I realize,

when I look up

from my preoccupation with

my own feet,

You are here,

You are here.

The dance we share

is as reliable as Life itself.

and its music

floats my heart skyward

as my soul

breaks into song.

 

Copyright© Cynthia Cady Stanton, 2018

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Poem · Poetry

It Happens…

 

….. if we are one of the lucky ones, that is.

We get older.

When did this natural reality –

with wrinkles in the mix,

become a source of shame?

I admit it,

I struggle with the mirror.

We, me and the mirror, have a daily dialogue which

is too personal to share…

For this reason, 

I try to keep my glasses off

when near a reflective surface,

like a mirror or window,

that is how silly of a woman I can be.

I am angry that I was taught

to be self-conscious, evaluative

on a daily basis.

Why do we do this to women, to girls?

I marvel how men could care less.

Their freedom is awesome

and also more affordable.

And as a spiritual woman,

I am embarrassed I still struggle with all this.

I know I go deeper than all that.

So, I am learning to embrace my wrinkles,

and all the rest of it –

as a woman in my fifties.

This is just another example of

how I must get out of my own way

in order to be

the wonderful creation

I was meant to be –

so I can be free, too.

Therefore, 

give me laughter,

give me love,

give me purpose,

and humility, too.

Bless me with health.

That is all I really need.

I  will take care of myself

as best I can,

and let go of the rest

with grace.

Life is way too short

and I know too well

where this all heads.

But I am not there yet.

My wrinkles tell a story…

the story of me.

Amen to that.

Copyright@ Cynthia Cady Stanton, 2018

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