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A Deeper Listening

As a baby poet,

and a lover of writing,

the words that arrive

seemed to flow effortlessly

for a time.

When I dared to take those

first steps

that one day in a coffee shop,

and my love – after reading the results –

and to my surprise –

proclaimed me a poet,

I blossomed so fully

and beautifully

into joy and purpose.

I shined from the inside out,

blessed by having been seen.

This is what happens

when one is in the flow,

the wellsprings of artful expression.

But lately,

I find myself in the driest season of all.

This dehydration and loss of the words

has begun to hurt.

I feel it in the tightness of my voice –

a constipation in manifestation…

of engagement in my gifts.

So where did those waters of life go?

There is still a heart in me

that longs to speak.

There is still a soul

that seeks to inspire.

There is still a desire

to connect artfully

and with meaningful impact –

not out of a need for praise,

but of a soul-drive to be helpful –

to connect to our common humanity.

But here I am.

Thirsty for the words

and waiting to be quenched

by the flow

which glows through me.

It has been a season

of healing and grief for me.

There has been a deep dive

into all the embodied pain

I have been carrying –

lugging around through life

unwittingly.

The drag of it all

has finally caught up with me.

I have been brought to my knees

to find a profound humility.

Now that I am getting back on my feet again,

and on sacred ground,

feeling healed and graced

with a deeper listening to life,

I sense the presence of inspiration again.

She whispers softly,

but with an urgency

that deepens my attention.

So the words are starting to spring forth gently.

I know I must share them –

for I know they are needed

for the many who thirst longingly

just like me.

My heart begins to pour them out

as I enter the flow

once again.

Copyright@cynthiacadystanton.com, Jan. 2022

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com
Uncategorized

Just Me, the Stars, and Hope

I like to get up before the sun does.

It is a kind of race

to greet the day first, for

being alone in the stillness of the morning

fuels me.

When I walk in the quiet

of my slumbering neighborhood,

and I can look up at the moon

and the stars,

and feel the crisp morning air

on my sleepy skin,

I am like a wakening flower bud.

I open to the promise

of a new day –

of being in fresh light.

I am a rare creature, I know.

Few would take the covers off so early

to brave the chill.

But me? I just get some coffee in me,

bundle up, and go.

It is the most liberating time of my day –

for yesterday has been filed away…

and it is just me, the stars,

and hope.

So, I lift up my voice

and sing, joining the bird chorus

as the glow begins to dawn.

This is what morning energy does for me.

I move forward through the dark and

rise with the sun.

It is a kind of practice, you see.

If I can dance my way through the dark

feeling safe and happy,

then I have mastered the power

of self-transcendence.

I have learned to let go,

and relax into the flow of life.

It is a kind of cleanse

that reminds me that I am actually

free to be –

and no loss or regret

can keep me under the covers

for very long.

Copyright @ Cynthia Cady Stanton, 2021

Walk on, walk on, with hope in your heart, and you will never walk alone.

Gerry and the Pacemakers
Photo by Matheus Bertelli on Pexels.com

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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

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

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

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 · Uncategorized

The Remedy

 

When in isolation,

and the feeling of it overwhelms,

remember the love within you.

Look to your heart and

the fullness there, the fullness that

swells with your sweet attention to it.

You are not alone.

You are the branch which stretches and shades from

 every tree you have ever sat under.

You are the sea spray that has kissed your face

from every stroll on the beach.

You are the joy of your beloved pet who

always blesses you with pure affection.

You are the song that the morning bird sings.

You are even the touch of every hand held and 

every embrace shared.

Every heart contains these wonders

for they have been memorized within

its secret and divine chambers.

Therefore, your heart is the keeper

and she waits for you.

Learning to trust her

allows you to relax into your life

and glow as designed to do so

no matter what is happening outside of you.

Those who know this, know how

to live from the inside.

They know how to touch God.

It is that simple. 

The Presence lives in you, so

you are not alone.

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

I am as sure as I live that nothing is so near to me as God. God is nearer to me than I am to myself; my existence depends on the nearness and presence of God. – Meister Eckhart

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