Uncategorized

Out of the Weeds

Photo by Vitaliy Mitrofanenko from Pexels

You would think

that by the time we reach maturity,

we would know how

to make the way clear

for ourselves…

And yet,

the patterns continue –

the ones that

face-plant us amidst

the tangle around us.

Those frustrating weeds

of all we hang onto

have pinned us down

and left us feeling powerless.

We still have those times when

we forget how to breathe

and Life itself

needs to breathe for us –

teaching the way from

gasps to sighs to

calming deep breaths.

Eventually, with this fortified

and nurturing air,

we become strong enough,

to be receptive to our own truth.

We are ready to

trust our own insights –

and we can stand free

amidst the tangle

before us..

We understand that

Weeds are just flowers

with an angry history –

and compassion finds us.

Only then can we be

safe and whole even

amidst the weeds.

So, when on the ground,

look up –

examine what has been planted..

Drop the fear of harm

and tripping.

Really see the beauty before you.

Each bud and leaf

represents a lesson gained.

Know that the weeds with the thickest stems

and biggest thorns

have been planted by you

and you alone.

Those are the most stubborn

to pull from the ground –

for their roots are hardened

and run deep.

They require more focus

and strength.

Honor them all.

Once truly witnessed,

these trip wires

have fulfilled their purpose

and the way is made clear.

Do you understand?

Love the weeds.

Elevate each one of them,

giving thanks for their wisdom bestowed.

Wake up to the ways

you have cluttered your own path.

Please don’t despair –

for everyone has weeds on their trail.

The way to freedom

is born in taking responsibility…

elevating the pain we have been feeling,

bowing to it,

and setting it free.

You do not need it anymore

for you have arisen from the rubble

healed.

We can clear our own path

if we are brave enough

to nurse the skinned knees and

to cry its tears.

So, pull each weed

and lift it up to the bright blue sky.

You have found your way through.

You can now move forward

and live in joy.

You can be a blessing for the world.

Copyright @ Cynthia Cady Stanton, 2021

I’m walking uphill, both ways it hurts. I bury my heart here in this dirt. I hope it’s a seed, I hope it works. I need to grow, here I could be. Closer to light, closer to me. Don’t have to do this perfectly. Have I the courage to change?

“Courage” – a song by Pink

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

The Return

 

Here we are again.

You are You,

and I am learning to be me.

It’s funny…

this long road I have travelled

with all the detours along the way,

while You simply waited.

I thought I had a long way to go.

But I was wrong.

I just needed to stop

and allow myself

a different view.

Now I am on the vista.

I see your landscape

and my place in it.

It takes my breath away

as all the tension

of trying so hard

floats away.

Copyright© Cynthia Cady Stanton, 2020

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Poem · Poetry · Uncategorized

Home

 

My heart is at a loss as it

searches for a home –

even as I sit here, even as I sit here in

the comfort of this place.

 

My heart is at a loss as it

reaches for a peace – 

a peace that calms my restless soul, a soul

that cannot settle in this mess.

 

My heart is at a loss as it

feels strangled by new limits,

limits that are new and have descended in a

tidal wave, a wave that overwhelms me.

 

My heart is at a loss as it dreams of

better days, as it dreams of better days filled with

comfort and touch, the touch that heals and soothes,

and plays with long-lost freedom.

 

This is the home I am in, a home that

holds the fears and worries, a home

that keeps me safe from harm, still. Though my heart is

a tangle which longs to loosen, it is my home, it

is my home. 

Copyright© Cynthia Cady Stanton, March, 2020black-home-area-rug-2950003