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

Climb In

 

Come float with me, dear one.

Climb into my boat.

I will grab your hand

and lift you in.

We can ride this out together.

The current will take us in its way

but we can see a new shore

over there.

If we work together,

we can point the boat

and use our muscles

to reach that new 

and beautiful land.

The journey may be hard –

but inch by inch,

wave by wave,

we will make it.

So, climb in.

The invitation is clear.

Together we are safe.

We can make it

because we are strong.

Float with me.

Let’s rise above the current.

Copyright© Cynthia Cady Stanton, June 2020.

Don’t be one of those who won’t risk the ocean. Load the ship and set out. – Rumi

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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

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

Another Year

 

As in a game that stacks,

each brick a year in length,

we add them to the pile,

observing how they stay.

Some years there is more wobble,

stability stressed by balance.

Some years the heights are awesome,

our vision stretched and soaring.

The years they come so swiftly…

we sing this song together.

Life has a way of moving

each moment easily lost.

We long to learn the secret…

         Who builds this life we live?

We look at its construction,

our gratitude gives us vision.

 

Copyright© Cynthia Cady Stanton, 2019

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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

This Golden Crack

Like a canvas

before the artist’s brush,

we get our markings.

Our unique hues

and textures

create the picture 

of what seems to be true

about us.

But sometimes life is lived

more like a ceramic pot –

one that gets cracked

along the way…

shattered, even –

the mending of which

is complicated work.

It takes the artist’s hands

and keen attention to detail

to put the pieces together,

beautifully.

It is a necessary process.

This breaking,

followed by the recognition of the mess,

enables us to be held

and mended.

When we submit to the

Master’s hands,

and allow for the

hard work to be done,

we are fashioned anew.

Our cracks become golden

and essential. 

We are forever changed, and

we shine with humble strength

from our broken places.

Like the Velveteen Rabbit,

we have been loved into

becoming more real.

Copyright© Cynthia Cady Stanton, 2018

Tea bowl Tea bowl
; Japan; 17th century; Stoneware with clear, crackled glaze, stained by ink; gold lacquer repairs.; H x W: 10.5 x 12.2 cm (4 1/8 x 4 13/16 in); Gift of Charles Lang Freer