Poem · Poetry · Uncategorized

Look For Them

You can see them on the periphery

or sometimes in small groups.

Often they are alone,

sitting comfortably and quietly observing.

These are the wise ones.

They may be bent by the years

and a little rough around the edges.

They may move slowly 

and with care…

for they have learned to honor the limits.

When in their presence,

look deeply.

Meet their eyes with yours.

You will be stunned by the light of life

which sparkles with the kind of glow

that can only be fashioned over time.

Allow yourself to soak up its wisdom.

Take the time.

Don’t miss this connection.

Instead, know this:

these are the ones to know –

for they long to sing their song for you,

to tell the story.

Life has finally made them real.

If you slow down enough

to take a seat,

you will discover gold.

Copyright© Cynthia Cady Stanton, 2020

 

“Once you are real you cannot be ugly except to those who don’t understand.”  —Velveteen Rabbit

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Poem · Poetry · Uncategorized

Why I Love the Morning

It’s the quiet…

the ease of peace

that permeates –

just as the light gently travels

through the trees

and into my soul.

 

It’s the anticipation…

of yet another chance

for lessons to take root –

and new directions

to unfold.

 

It’s the trust…

that all the days past

have been worth any pain,

and there are no regrets

which can darken this new light.

 

It’s the love…

that gratitude which shimmers

and brightens my vision

to just how blessed it is

to have this life,

this very day.

 

I am but a bird singing,

a flower opening,

a cat purring,

and a baby giggling.

Mornings have this affect on me.

They elate.

Copyright© Cynthia Cady Stanton, August, 2020

 

This being human is a guest house. Every morning a new arrival. Welcome and entertain them all! – Rumi

Photo by Kaboompics .com from Pexels

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Poem · Poetry · Uncategorized

This Heart

 

This heart is a strong muscle.

It never disappoints.

When put to work,

there is always strength,

there is always strength.

 

This heart is a deep well.

When the bucket is lowered

and dips into its depths,

there is always refreshment,

there is always refreshment.

 

This heart is a vista.

When the journey tires,

I can sit and rest.

I see it all. 

There is always a vision,

there is always a vision.

 

This heart is a blanket.

When the chill arrives,

I reach for warmth.

There is always an embrace,

there is always an embrace.

 

This heart is home.

When the moments

add up to years,

I can look back and within.

There is always love,

there is always love.

 

Copyright© Cynthia Cady Stanton, 2020

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Poem · Poetry · Uncategorized

Permission to Grow

 

With an abundance of time,

I can get a bit lost.

I am used to being driven

by duty,

with all its necessary tasks

keeping me busy.

But I am not so needed

right now –

or so it seems.

Reluctantly, I learn to be grateful 

for the quiet,

the stillness that is always underneath.

I sit and open to it.

Once rested and

pretty soon, 

my eyes begin to catch a vision

while my heart bubbles forth

with an effervescent song.

Its music is an invitation to grow –

to gather all the pieces

and moments

of wisdom, pain, and insight that

have been stacking in the corners –

to sit with them

and to honor their sacredness.

 

As I look back to review them,

the melody of their song

begins to weave together.

It travels in and through me,

bringing lightness and energy

to my searching heart.

The music floats up into my awareness

and sings to me:

       You know how to knit all this together.

       Trust what has been given to you.

The words form into a melody

only I can hear.

I can see now that

there is a song to be born, and

I have been invited 

to sing it.

My feet become light

as I learn dance 

to a new tune.

Copyright© Cynthia Cady Stanton, May 2020

“To love someone is to learn the song in their heart and to sing it to them when they have forgotten.” – Arne Garbing

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Poem · Poetry · Uncategorized

Unceasing Prayer

 

Lately, the weight of the world

seems to hold me to my bed

upon waking.

Entering the day requires

an unfamiliar courage.

But even as I lay under

the comfort of my covers,

trying not to face the universal worry,

I know how to be lifted…

 

I remember to pause.

I look out the window and

my eyes gaze in wonder

at the trees in the morning sky.

I bow inwardly to the beauty of their sparkle.

If the grip in my chest still remains –

threatening to take away wonder and joy,

I place my hands on my heart

and breathe.

I remember to offer myself

love and care.

This anxiety is not about me.

I can let it go.

Then, I look to my right and smile.

My love is at rest and peaceful.

I am reminded to celebrate all the love in my life.

My heart is soothed and 

begins to open to the morning.

 

This is how to start the day

when the world is in pain.

If we practice the art of

transcendance, 

and remind ourselves

of what is true and real,

we can step into the Presence 

that we are.

So today, I set my intention to 

continue in this way

moment by moment,

mindful of what I choose to see.

 

As I take the covers off,

and step onto the floor,

I lift up my voice and say,

“thank you.”

I gratefully move forward.

Later, if I catch myself 

again in the grip of worry,

veering off track,

I lift up a prayer.

I give voice to what is good.

I deepen my gaze and do the work.

This way, darkness and fear

don’t win.

And I am free to love generously.

Copyright© Cynthia Cady Stanton, April 2020, during the Covid 19 Pandemic.

Regardless of the subject matter, this is the only thing worth teaching; how to uncover the original center and live from there once restored.  Mark Nepo

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Poem · Poetry

A Teacher in the Midst

 

He sits in my lap

purring away, as is his normal routine.

We greet the morning together

this way

every day.

Me with my coffee and laptop,

him with an open attentiveness.

Sure, the creature needs have been met –

he has had his breakfast –

and I already noted my coffee…

But once nurtured and fed,

my kitty always presents himself to me

to demonstrate his gratitude.

There is no other agenda –

just togetherness and 

presence embraced.

I celebrate this simplicity 

and his example.

He is regal in his ability to just be.

It is a treasure to behold.

I take a moment to bow to the Master

and give thanks for his furry presence

freely given.

Namaste, dear creature.

I can see you.

Copyright© Cynthia Cady Stanton, 2019

Poem · Poetry · Uncategorized

The Time to Blossom

 

There is an urgency within

which pulls at my skin,

leading me forth

into the mysterious newness ahead.

I’ve been germinating.

The rest allowed has given

the necessary space and freedom

to review the landscapes –

and offer each

to be placed into the heart of God.

Sure, there are mixed feelings attached.

But each place travelled

has provided the necessary nutrition

for the current unfolding.

I have found that

the more I let go and allow for

a larger view of things,

the more freedom there is

for my unique soul

to be connected to 

God and my true belonging.

This lightens –

and allows for the reach up and out.

There really are no problems!

It is counter-intuitive, in a way –

but the more I let go,

the more I can be present for others

and actually be helpful –

be present.

So, I choose to be here –

as rocky as the ground can be…

I choose joy.

I choose love.

I live gratefully.

And when the memory of this lapses,

I forgive the pull of distraction,

and begin again.  

We can always start over.

This is the beauty of 

learning self-transformation.

God is the focus.

Not me.

There is always hope

and healing is here.

Copyright© Cynthia Cady Stanton, 2019

 

The presence of God needs to fill the space where you seem to be for healing to happen.

Dr. Thomas Hora

 

Ask yourself, who would I be if there were no problem?

-Tara Brach

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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

That Part of Me

 

My heart is working hard these days

with loss and loneliness.

I am an orphan seeking home. 

The grief of moving through the landscape which

is my life

tugs at the ways I have 

stitched myself together.

This waking up is painful –

but as I move forward,

I open my heart to it.

 

It is a time of deepening –

of allowing the mystery to instruct

and show me

the location of my true belonging.

The older I get,

the more acquainted I am

with this type of deep reckoning.

It is familiar terrain and

I have visited it often.

When I look back, I can see this.

But in this moment, 

choosing to be present

feels like valor.

 

I gradually take on the challenge

as little pieces of me mend.

I begin to hear again the 

warm and forgiving invitation.

It calls to me like

a song over the hillside,

sending music to my ears and heart.

I allow this embrace of mystery which

wells up within my very soul.

This is the place which

connects me to the beauty of it all

and the realization of belonging.

I find my way home again

and I learn to dwell in a sweet peace.

I dare to hold everything –

all the precious pain and longing.

Thanksgiving visits me –

I am surprised as it wells up like a wave

and invites me to rest in a beautiful tenderness.

This is Life and Grace

given and received.

They had never left.

 

Copyright© Cynthia Cady Stanton, 2019

“Secret work is being done in us of which we have no inkling.”  John O’Donahue

 

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