Poem · Poetry

Gradually Getting It

Here is the nub of it all:

Like a white birch tree,

along a rocky shore,

I am most beautiful, healthy, and free,

when I am part of

the whole picture,

blending into the larger scene.

Standing alone,

 while interesting,

makes the tree more 

vulnerable to the wind and weather.

One has to ask,

              What will happen if I drop my striving and planning?

More and more,

this question arrives, and

I dare to loosen my grip,

embracing the magic

of trust and letting go –

I follow inspiration,

and stop making it all

about me.

Copyright© Cynthia Cady Stanton, 2018

birch-bright-countryside-5616

Poem · Poetry

It Happens…

 

….. if we are one of the lucky ones, that is.

We get older.

When did this natural reality –

with wrinkles in the mix,

become a source of shame?

I admit it,

I struggle with the mirror.

We, me and the mirror, have a daily dialogue which

is too personal to share…

For this reason, 

I try to keep my glasses off

when near a reflective surface,

like a mirror or window,

that is how silly of a woman I can be.

I am angry that I was taught

to be self-conscious, evaluative

on a daily basis.

Why do we do this to women, to girls?

I marvel how men could care less.

Their freedom is awesome

and also more affordable.

And as a spiritual woman,

I am embarrassed I still struggle with all this.

I know I go deeper than all that.

So, I am learning to embrace my wrinkles,

and all the rest of it –

as a woman in my fifties.

This is just another example of

how I must get out of my own way

in order to be

the wonderful creation

I was meant to be –

so I can be free, too.

Therefore, 

give me laughter,

give me love,

give me purpose,

and humility, too.

Bless me with health.

That is all I really need.

I  will take care of myself

as best I can,

and let go of the rest

with grace.

Life is way too short

and I know too well

where this all heads.

But I am not there yet.

My wrinkles tell a story…

the story of me.

Amen to that.

Copyright@ Cynthia Cady Stanton, 2018

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Poem · Poetry

Not Up to Me

Like gears that click into place,

making everything

smooth and running as it should,

the moment you arrive,

you get it.

You get everything.

The Bible calls it

“the secret place of the Most High.”

You deeply know when you are there –

because everything before you

disappears into peace, Love

and the amazing Presence –

including you.

Sounds scary but

it is actually beautiful.

This is true freedom,

the letting go

and letting God.

Don’t let your gears get stuck

by grasping too hard

onto your special brand

of misdirection.

There is nothing to do

or figure out.

Divine Design has it.

Simply trust.

And Love.

Release your grip –

and again,

and again.

Everything is in place

and all is well.

It is not up to you

to figure it out.

Copyright © Cynthia Cady Stanton, 2017

gears 2

Poem · Poetry

Blessed Assurance

 

No more a need

to solve, cling, or do.

I am done with all that.

Breathe.

Just be.

I turn my attention outward

trusting that inwardly,

I am whole.

This is an important shift

and not one that is

familiar –

a down shift,

into trust –

rather than constant acceleration.

True freedom comes in

letting go of the wheel,

not needing to see the road ahead.

Gradually, I am learning to be

more of a passenger.

It is strange how unfamiliar it feels.

I have learned so deeply

to be on my own,

driving solo.

But I repeatedly follow the wrong directions

being the simple human

I have learned to be,

confused by which GPS to heed.

Now I call upon my divine nature.

It has taken decades to

own it.

Such a beautiful feeling…

to know it is not all

up to me –

that no map is needed.

A look back

in the rear view mirror

confirms.

All is well –

and has been all along the way.

Blessed be.

Copyright © @Cynthia Cady Stanton, 2017

serenity stones