Poem · Poetry · Uncategorized

This Journey

 

On the other side

and over the hump,

I catch a vision of the new

before me,

and within me.

It was a rough season –

all the falling and stumbling

behind me.

I look back –

and though I do not want

to go back again,

my heart sings –

for I am grateful.

The lessons have arrived –

some like a ton of bricks…

but after getting knocked down,

I got up –

again and again.

You assisted –

helping my legs remember their strength

and teaching me to rest, too.

I surrendered to the season –

reluctantly at first…

but as I let go,

healing arrived.

Now here I stand.

I am firmly grounded

in a whole new way of being.

Thank you.

Thank you from the bottom of my feet

through my heart and 

radiating upward

and outward

from every pore of life in me.

May the lessons gained

root deeply in my soul.

Understanding has blessed me, and

I am fashioned anew.

Thanks be to the One

who gives beyond measure!

Holy is your name.

Your creation of me continues

with deepening grace.

I am in awe.

Copyright© Cynthia Cady Stanton, 2018

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Poem · Poetry · Uncategorized

Giving Thanks

 

It is far too easy

to focus on lack, pain,

or fear.

After all, the suffering 

seems to be

at every bend and corner.

This is what the world gives –

the constant dis-ease

which keeps us unsettled.

But, what is – THE MORE

continues to invite us…

and heal us

when our eyes are open to seeing it –

when our arms can stretch to receive,

and our hearts dare to soften.

Giving thanks

is about giving voice

to THE MORE –

which is always present.

So, let us raise our voices

and sing the song of grace.

Let us share its music

which beats in the

rhythm of our hearts.

Let us open our eyes 

and see

all the goodness

embedded in every moment.

When we do this together

around hearth or table,

the music of our voices

helps us touch

the deep places –

the ones that sustain

and heal us

and bring us to dancing.

Blessings to you

and through you.

Let us be present for each other.

Copyright© Cynthia Cady Stanton, 2018

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Poem · Poetry · Uncategorized

I Can See Who You Are

We hustle.

We bustle.

We cover up.

We avoid.

In the constant press forward,

the moments are lost.

When able to still ourselves,

we can catch glimpses of 

what is real.

I sat with a patient,

one of the sweet ones

with dementia.

Her eyes alive

with love and openness…

Her speech cute and senseless

most of the time.

I am present to her

and focus on being –

instead of doing.

When the time for goodbye comes,

I touch her shoulder

and lean in.

Her eyes widen

as these words spill forth

in clarity and affection:

           “I can see who you are!”

Grace finds me

and I am blessed by her glimpse.

I am reminded…

I am Love.

Copyright@ Cynthia Cady Stanton, 2018

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Poem · Poetry · Uncategorized

Be Lifted

I sometimes like to watch

the float of a feather.

It can show up unannounced

and bless me

with fresh lightness.

Watching its flowing movement

with no steering wheel

to direct 

or engine powering it –

Well, it looks like freedom.

Most of us 

tend to be weighted

by our day to day.

We load up our minds

with fiction

that keeps us from

the float of grace

intended for us.

Watch the feather,

I tell myself.

It has no need to 

drive or direct,

no agenda to meet,

no cares to protect.

It simply rests

on the unseen flow of life.

It rises above beautifully.

The feather’s lift

is a wonder to behold –

the mystery and gift

of grace realized.

Copyright© Cynthia Cady Stanton, 2018

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Poem · Poetry · Uncategorized

When Praying

It starts with stopping

and then a deep breath –

the kind that really fills you,

and reaches to the bottom of things.

When you begin to settle

and peace starts to bloom,

you wait.

There is nothing to say.

It is a time to listen.

The longings will arise

and you simply hold them.

With grace and acceptance,

you lift them –

first to your heart,

and then up in surrender.

It is this gesture,

this gathering of yourself

which connects you to

who you are.

For there is no separation

between you and God.

You are a drop of water

in God’s ocean.

You belong –

and all it takes 

is listening and bowing

to remember this

and be healed

of want and need.

Copyright© Cynthia Cady Stanton, 2018

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Poem · Poetry

Holy, Holy

Not one of us is perfect.

Not one of us is fully formed.

We are but buds on the stem,

and wobbly saplings,

with thirsty roots –

searching for ground.

Every day,

we come up short in some way.

We offend our intentions, 

allowing the pain within

to attach more deeply.

Our path is littered with

all we have dropped,

despite all the trying

on the way to perfect.

To heal,

we turn around,

and gaze upon the lessons…

We pick them up,

one at a time,

and lift them to our heart.

In the lifting, we proclaim:

Holy, holy.

Holy, holy.

Now touched by grace,

we can turn around, facing forward –

and begin again –

reminded of what it feels like

to be held.

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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