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

Solid Ground

Though the waters may rise,

and the winds build strength,

daring to knock me over,

I know where I am standing.

My feet firmly placed,

I face forward

with my heart wide open –

ready to meet Life

with courage and hope.

Yes, the storms come.

They cause their damage

on the surface of things –

attempting to make my day to day

difficult and sad.

Yet, I persevere…

for I dwell in 

what is real –

I live in the Truth

which holds me up

and anchors me:

I am Love.

I am Peace.

I am Joy.

So, when the winds blow,

I choose to live

from the ground up.

I bend,

and I smile.

I am present for the lessons while

I hold onto my roots,

staying safe.

Copyright© Cynthia Cady Stanton, 2018

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Poem · Poetry

Morning Coffee

That first brewed cup,

its aroma filling the kitchen,

its warmth on the mug

as my hand hugs it –

well, it soothes my soul.

I am like a cat

looking for a lap –

the ritual invites

rest and reflection –

a feeling of peace which

connects me

to all that matters.

The silence of the morning

reminds me to

quiet my waking mind

and allow for inspiration

to visit me.

She whispers into my soul.

Sipping my coffee,

engaging with words of wisdom –

words that find me

from the writings of others, or

the ones rising up within me –

it is a morning dance

that brings me joy.

We need touch points

like this.

We are like spinning tops

without them,

turning mindlessly, and

missing opportunities

to stop and notice.

The work of the soul,

our experience of Love,

requires these pauses.

Therefore, fret not your routines.

They are roots that 

hold you in place –

or scenic spots 

along your journey –

they allow for a more expansive view.

I pour myself a second cup,

Feeling the ground below me –

connecting my heart

to what expands before me.

It opens like an eager flower.

I behold the blessing

of another day.

Copyright© Cynthia Cady Stanton, June 2018

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Poem · Poetry

I Will Be Your Anchor

When you feel overwhelmed by

the rush of cold water around you,

I will be your anchor.

When the darkness below tries

to pull you under,

I will be your anchor.

When the winds catch your sail,

and threaten to toss you 

to a scary destination,

I will be your anchor,

keeping you attached –

tethered to the strength

I have given you.

Life will push you about,

bring changes and dangers.

No one can avoid this,

for each of us has our own

path of peril

through which to pass

and learn from the passing.

None of this is to be taken personally – except

God’s promises to be in the muck with us.

We are like trees with roots that run deep,

roots that hold us up in the storms.

We fall over when the roots

are allowed to decay.

God says, Stay tethered to me.

I will be your anchor, your root.

Hang on to me –

and never let go.

Copyright© Cynthia Cady Stanton, 2018

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Poem · Poetry

When I Am Not Writing

 

The babbling brook that

is the stream of life, passes

before me,

its eternal and purposeful movement,

effortlessly dancing –

its whispers inviting me

into the water.

I sit on the shore,

afraid to get wet –

mistaken by the idea

that in staying dry,

I can somehow 

avoid the discomfort and uncertainty

of change –

when in actuality,

I am delaying my

ongoing baptism into Life.

In this moment,

I dip my toe back in.

 

Copyright© Cynthia Cady Stanton, 2018

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Poem · Poetry

Structure

Limping again

with another broken bone.

A repeat injury

only this time

on the other side

as if it had to happen

for a symmetry in the lesson.

I am feeling a little picked on.

 

Feet are important

for grounding and balance.

Standing is now clumsy and awkward

with one foot in a walking cast.

Walking is even worse.

I am forced to slow down.

Is God toying with me?

Forcing me to look at what I am made of

and what kind of condition I am in?

 

Now there is talk of potential disease

a thinning of my bones,

a weakness that clearly has been hidden
until this year.

All this makes me feel old

and envious of all those effortless walkers

out there.

I have heard that healing

can make us stronger in our weak spots.

I hope this is true.

And now that I have run out of feet,

perhaps I can get grounded again.

 

Copyright © Cynthia Cady Stanton 2017

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