Poem · Poetry · Uncategorized

When Life is Hard

 

When life is hard,

and each day a challenge,

look for the soft places

beneath and below.

Uncover what is there

and be comforted.

 

When each day is an effort,

relax your muscles

and decide on purpose

to seek what frees.

Do more of that.

 

When the weight on your shoulders

is slowing you down,

go slow.

It is okay to rest.

Share your load and 

ask for help.

 

Listen to the whispers of God –

for you are being directed to learn 

something important.

Perhaps this is the time you finally understand that

joy can be found 

in the pain

             when you change your thinking.

 

Everyone gets lessons along the way…

Now is your time

to blossom in winter.

So, take comfort in the crocus 

which perseveres through 

hard frozen ground

to rise and shine,

transcending into Spring.

For you are the crocus.

Copyright© Cynthia Cady Stanton, 2019

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Poem · Poetry · Uncategorized

A Breath That is Free

 

If our moments are forgotten,

did we really live them?

If our thoughts are in charge,

are we present at all?

If our breath is held,

is it really a breath?

I pause with these questions

and my ears open to the hum of my home,

and the song of the birds outside.

My vision is sparked by

the morning light filtering through the trees.

The glow is beautiful.

I notice that as I write,

my posture is hunched,

and I am tight in all the usual places.

I release the usual.

Relaxing and deepening awareness

of my breath,

and my gratitude for it all,

I begin again.

I am present and I live this moment.

Grace and peace find me 

in the movement of my breath.

I am ready for the gift of another day.

Copyright© Cynthia Cady Stanton, 2019

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Poem · Poetry · Uncategorized

Enough Already

 

Don’t worry about the direction

ahead, or the matters of the day.

Simply place your hand

on your own heart

and feel the love there – love 

that was given long ago

that you may have forgotten.

 

Don’t be the person who

allows busyness to run

over your life, squashing it

with good intentions, and

all that learned stupidness which

pulls us away from

this preciousness given.

 

Remember those moments

when God has broken through –

those glimpses when you

knew beyond a doubt that

you are made of the same stuff

as the flowers and trees, and

forever is possible – that 

Love is You, and 

You are Love.

 

Let yourself glow, please.

For those who do, are

born in true freedom.

For in stepping aside from 

the pettiness of all our 

misdirected ways, we can

float like a feather

on the breath of God.

 

Copyright© Cynthia Cady Stanton, 2019

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Poem · Poetry · Uncategorized

Nurture

 

You are but a drooping plant

with a bowed-browned bloom.

Your light is not reflecting –

the shadows grow.

Grief visible like this

is more easily watered.

It calls out for nurturance.

When hidden,

it festers 

and roots into every pore,

making us sick –

stealing the colors.

This is the usual way…

for we are all good at facades

and hiding.

We smile brightly,

despite the pained cracks within.

    Where does it hurt, my friend?

Show me the place

and tell me the story.

Dig out the pain from

your hardened crusts – fashionably covered.

Lift your voice and let the cry be born.

Let me know what is needed.

Take the covers off

and allow the hurt to move you

to a new place of freedom.

All is well, and

I am here with you.

You belong.

Copyright© Cynthia Cady Stanton, 2019

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Poem · Poetry · Uncategorized

Be a Tree

 

You can stand in your ground

with roots that grasp to

all that matters

and holds you in place.

You can reach for the light and

blossom in its glow.

You bloom and grow,

bloom and grow –

shedding what is no longer needed,

in the appropriate season.

Other beings are attracted to you…

they sense your peace.

Its good to allow them

to hug you,

and be in your presence.

For sharing the strength and life

of your core

brings healing –

and releases the knots of

tension and contraction which cause

unnecessary twisting.

As the winds and storms arrive,

remember who you are.

You are not the weather.

You are a tree.

You observe.

You lend air.

You stand tall and alert, and

your stillness blesses.

Copyright © Cynthia Cady Stanton, 2019

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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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