Poem · Poetry · Uncategorized

God’s Reach

 

Sometimes I feel as if

I am in a favorite pocket of yours.

Once and a while, 

you reach in and touch me –

and I am remembered again.

You may adjust me a bit,

smoothing my edges and

moving me about inside the pocket,

your touch comforting 

as you bring me to new places

for my learning.

 

When the moment is right,

you lift me up and out

and I feel the rush of freedom knitted with

the warmth of grace

as you hold me in your hand.

You look at me,

and I look at you.

And I remember again 

what home feels like.

Then you place me back

into your pocket

for easy reaching later.

 

I am your treasure

and in your keeping –

you keep me safe from harm.

One day, I know

your lift up

and into the light

will mean I get to stay.

My vision will be clear then

and so will my reflection

of you.

Copyright© Cynthia Cady Stanton, 2019

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Poem · Poetry · Uncategorized

This One Life

 

You see, to live

one must do these things:

like a bird about to take flight,

one must believe it is possible –

that our wings can be trusted.

When happy, allow it to be!

Share your happy face and glow

as created to do so.

When sad, embrace being seen as sad –

and surrender to the hug of compassion

packaged in sweet understanding and growth.

The struggles will come and go.

The secret is to surf the highs and lows

and learn to fall gracefully 

and repeatedly.

There will always follow

chances to rise up again courageously.

We are here to love.

It is that simple –

and, also that complicated.

For most of us have learned

to turn away from the divine imprint

which shows us how to love

and accept our differences.

Remember that the journey of grace

is more inward

than outward.

We lose our layers of skin

and find peace in the presence

of this one moment.

We discover a deeper belonging.

We understand that we already have it all.

This is the amazing glimpse that,

when captured,

enables us to be the beautiful souls we are.

We can let go.

We can be free.

We can choose joy.

Copyright©Cynthia Cady Stanton, 2019

 

“Strange as it may seem today to say, the aim of life is to live, and to live means to be aware, joyously, drunkenly, serenely, divinely aware.”  – Henry Miller

 

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Poem · Poetry · Uncategorized

Late Bloomer

 

I saw some unusual flowers yesterday

which bloomed in unexpected ways.

Their beauty ignited my heart

and blessed me with renewed vision.

Witnessing a perfect glow can do that –

it connects us to what is real

and true.

 

We color the world with so many hues –

the seasons directing the light

and filling the wide spectrum perfectly.

Sometimes the necessary germination before

the the colors can be expressed

takes time –

and that is by design.

For a full bloom

cannot be forced prematurely.

 

To be a flower

means being present to

the light being born in you

in its own time.

Your bloom will arrive in its fullness,

according to the Gardener’s plan.

 

Therefore, rest in the truth of the sunrise

and be soothed by the rain.

Wait your turn.

Your job is to allow the glow to be born in you

and to trust in the promised opening.

For part of the beauty of it all

is that the timing of your full flowering is not up to you…

It is perfectly fine and beautiful still

to be a late bloomer.

Copyright©Cynthia Cady Stanton, 2019

Photo credit by Gary Stanton, taken at Heritage Museums and Gardens in Sandwich, MA.

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Poem · Poetry · Uncategorized

Like Me

 

Like me,

I bet you don’t like to be

inconvenienced by illness or stress.

 

Like me,

you probably aim to control and manage

everything in front of you.

 

Like me,

sadness is not an option

you would choose.

 

Like me,

your busyness gets in the way

of your experience of peace and

even love.

 

Like me,

your striving and perfectionism

puts you in a box

which limits spontaneity and joy.

 

Like me,

your thoughts drive you

and mostly go unnoticed.

 

But also like me,

you are growing in awareness.

 

Like me,

you don’t give up.

 

Like me,

laughter and health

bubble forth, anyway.

 

Like me,

you are a Velveteen Rabbit,

and you are being loved

into being made more real.

 

Like me,

you are learning the 

gift of surrender.

 

Like me,

grace finds you.

 

Like me,

you are grateful for it all.

 

In peace,

my spirit bows to your spirit.

We are one.

And you are like me.

 

Copyright© Cynthia Cady Stanton, 2019

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Poem · Poetry · Uncategorized

What the Trees Know

 

Sometimes it is important to sit under a tree.

You can rest from 

all the glare and heat.

God did not intend for us an endless panting –

nor a sweat which drains.

So drink in the breezes.

Stop yourself and rest.

Be.

For this is what the trees know…

they understand from their deepest root

that their shade is their best work –

and they are happy to share it.

Trees know what it feels like

to live as created to be.

There is no better peace

or joy.

Copyright© Cynthia Cady Stanton, 2019

Artwork by Martha Harris.  To see more of her work, go to artisticflarings.blog.

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Poem · Poetry · Uncategorized

Your Embrace

No amount of coffee

can awaken this soul

to quicken its attention.

I am looking for you again, my God.

The mysteries of my path,

unfolding in excruciating ease.

I long for answers.

 

It helps when I remember

the times I have visited this landscape before.

You have always been next to me –

your hand in mine,

gently leading.

In rare glimpses you point the way –

but your respect for me usually

allows my own stumble forward.

 

Mostly, it helps to be held.

To embrace the mysteries

in the comfort of your arms

feels like the home

you made for me.

I am a baby looking for your eyes

as you love me.

Copyright@Cynthia Cady Stanton, 2019

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Poem · Poetry · Uncategorized

Catching Myself

 

There you are.

I see you now in the burst of the flower,

the color yellow blessing my eyes

with new and fresh joy.

Instantly, the lift is back

and I rest in the wonder of Presence.

My heart quickens with the reminder that

you are everywhere…

ready to be seen with

a never-ending invitation to

wakefulness.

I am finally learning how

the one who leaves

is never you.

You are as close as my in breath –

that breath that gets neglected

in the constant pant

of unnecessary busyness.

When I catch my breath,

I catch you. 

 

Life is always instructing me.

Just yesterday, I read these words:

              Worry is a misuse of imagination.

It was just the right message at

just the right time.

I am glad I noticed it.

It could have just slipped past me…

and it made me question

what else I might have missed

along the way…

I thank you for these reminders.

So simple they are

once grasped.

I realize once again,

and repeatedly,

that you are never far away

and that the barriers

to my learning and freedom

are of my own creation.

There is no blame for this –

I do understand.

As blame is just another unhelpful distraction –

another layer blocking me from you.

 

To live this precious life,

I must stop piling on the layers

so I can unfold into the naked beauty

of a fully bloomed flower

basking in the glow of the sun.

And where you are,

so will I be.

Copyright© Cynthia Cady Stanton, 2019

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