Poem · Poetry · Uncategorized

Big Love

 

When one of us is lost,

all that is needed is the touch of another

whether to tender skin or the wounded heart.

For none of us are perfectly on track

all the time, are we?

So we help one another to steer and soften.

 

When one of us is sick,

it is time for a cup of Big Love –

we fill it with grace mixed with empathy

so the sickness cannot take root,

causing the soul to wither,

in a feeling of aloneness.

 

If disconnection broadens, 

it is time to seek your teacher –

that wiser one who loves as God loves,

without measure, and

 while nurturing the current lesson to birth.

A good teacher mirrors your imminent Spring 

as you struggle to blossom

and see.

 

This is what Big Love looks like –

its embrace feels like freedom on the wing.

Its presence is grace realized

as sibling souls open and

reach out to you,

sparking Truth and Light

so you can be healed.

 

Copyright© Cynthia Cady Stanton, 2019

 

Photo credit to Gary Stanton, my husband, who also gave me the mug recently when I was sick – the inspiration for this poem.  Thank you, Honey!  xoxo

 

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Poem · Poetry · Uncategorized

Acquainted With Grief

Somewhere between meeting the new

and releasing the comfortable

there will always be grief.

It is that separation thing

that is oh, so inevitable –

and as predictable as 

melting ice cream.

It is the tug along the way 

that pulls at the heart,

sometimes tearing it painfully –

leaving scars that 

mark the spot.

Nothing lasts –

or so it seems.

It takes a lifetime to figure this out.

Eventually, we learn

that grief is the price of love –

given and received.

I bump into grief every day.

When I see it in another,

its embers are sparked in me 

and the familiar ache of it all

shows up,

reminding me of its 

ready presence,

pouncing on me,

like a mugger on a morning walk.

Grief has an I get it quality

when witnessed in another…

Our earthly existence

comes with loss

woven deeply into its tapestry.

We can see it in each other’s faces –

when we dare to look up.

Loss is the glue 

that connects us

and joins us together. 

Some think God causes this sadness

as if to manipulate us

to devotion

by bringing us to our knees

with heartache.

I disagree.

To me, God is all trust and love

with an unimaginable capacity

for wisdom and compassion –

and is not the cause

of our suffering.

If anything, God gets it –

suffers and grieves with us ,

weeping as we weep.

God knows that the answer

to grief

is the loving embrace –

the one we share with one another,

and the one 

God gives with

Everlasting Arms –

through us.

We are not alone,

ever.

This must be realized.

When it comes to grief,

and life (as it turns out)…

well, we are in it together –

and once we get off the floor,

after extreme loss has arrived,

we can move forward,

side by side,

learning a deepening resilience

together.

Copyright© Cynthia Cady Stanton, 2018

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Poem · Poetry

Big Girl Pants

I noticed her struggle.

It was one of those days when

the burden of work, life, and

responsibility 

made her bow low,

even as she quickly moved about.

She was weary –

maybe even in pain,

her eyes with the dark circles below which

appear regularly now,

despite daily application

of concealer.

She kept going,

kept producing,

despite her burden.

                  I’ve got my big girl pants on, she said.

I could empathize

because I get tired, too.

I understand how hard it is to stop

and just be –

to observe the blessings

along the way.

Perhaps one of the perks 

of getting old

is that as responsibilities

and requirements

fall away,

we can finally 

rest.

Copyright© Cynthia Cady Stanton, 2018

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Poem · Poetry · Uncategorized

Over the Hump

Climbing can be hard work

on the muscles,

and on the spirit, too.

We can approach the mountain 

in faith and,

even a sense of adventure –

until we get to 

our limit.

We have gone as far as

we can go 

on our own.

No progress is possible.

We are tempted to give up.

But then,

we somehow get

the boost we need.

We can move forward 

with muscles ready

to work again.

As we progress,

new vistas are brought into view.

They bless us with beauty

and hope.

This is what the

miracle of grace

looks like.

We are lifted out of struggle.

We are blessed

with peace.

It is as if 

           a loving hand from the beyond shows up

and respectfully,

picks you up off the floor.

Copyright© Cynthia Cady Stanton, 2018

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Poem · Poetry

Begin With the Ending

 

You have already started your curtain call

and now we show up

with our unpunched tickets in hand.

Meeting you at this point

is like being presented with a gift

that has already been opened –

loved and appreciated for years –

and ready to be tucked away

for safe keeping.

All our hellos

have built in goodbyes to them.

The door to you opens

and begins closing

all at once.

We know this going in.

Time is short

and momentous.

It forces an instant connection

that is felt both ways.

We understand the courage it takes

for you at this point,

to drop your guard so quickly

for a bunch of strangers

who want to help.

And you do.

And we do.

In a way, it is kind of magical.

The delicate intimacy

that comes with sharing your ending

teaches us.

Teaches you to let go

in a meaningful way,

and teaches us what

letting go looks like.

We love this about

being with you.

Thank you for allowing us

to cut in

and share your final dance.

We promise to help you

finish it well.

Please take the lead

and show us your steps.

We will follow you

and share your curtain call.

Copyright© Cynthia Cady Stanton, 2018

dancing at sunset

 

Poem · Poetry

Be a Branch

You come to me with searching eyes,

your shoulders slumped,

your breathing shallow.

“I need help,” you say.

I open my arms

and reach for you,

taking you into the Love,

ever-present.

Comfort flowers.

An elderly woman drops her grocery bag

and oranges and potatoes scatter

all over the road –

I run to her.

My hands get busy gathering her food.

Our eyes connect and

together we laugh.

There is no problem, anymore.

We are connected.

Everyday, situations show up

to wake us up to

who we are

and why we are here.

Most of the time,

we don’t notice.

We are too busy with ourselves,

living as if

we are on our own.

We forget that God needs us

in order to be seen,

to be realized –

and we need God.

“I am the vine.

You are the branches.”

The instruction is given:

We are deeply connected to God

and when we extend ourselves

in Love,

life blossoms as it should –

and God is at work

with us.

Nothing else makes more sense

or is as beautiful.

Be a branch.

Copyright© Cynthia Cady Stanton, 2018

branches