Poem · Poetry

A Proper Sorting and Tossing

I take it in,

all the goodness

I can wrap myself around.

I take it in,

and I hold it dear.

I let it crowd and smother

the junk that remains 

from all past hurts and loss.

I push these out and out.

There is no time for clinging to old hurts.

There is only room

for the good things.

So I sweep and dust,

sort and toss.

I keep a tidy home

in this heart of mine.

No matter the weather outside,

despite all storms and struggle

which rattle the windows,

no matter any darkness looming,

nothing is glued to me

but that which nurtures and lightens.

Whatever is not worth keeping

passes through me

as if through a window.

Of course I see it as it passes…

I do notice the unpleasant winds

and the damage they can produce –

but I don’t let them blow me over.

There is plenty else to own,

to cherish,

to foster.

These things are knit to the bone

so I can remain steady on my feet.

Growing older grants this 

wisdom of discernment.

I finally know

how to welcome the light that shows up –

even if it is just a flicker.

This is what I take in and cradle with tenderness.

This is how I shine from within

and build resilience.

Copyright@Cynthia Cady Stanton, June 2022

Examine everything carefully; hold fast to that which is good.

1 Thessalonians 5: 21

I realize there’s something incredibly honest about trees in winter, how they’re experts at letting things go.

Jeffrey McDaniel
Photo by SHVETS production on Pexels.com
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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