Poem · Poetry · Uncategorized

This One Life

 

You see, to live

one must do these things:

like a bird about to take flight,

one must believe it is possible –

that our wings can be trusted.

When happy, allow it to be!

Share your happy face and glow

as created to do so.

When sad, embrace being seen as sad –

and surrender to the hug of compassion

packaged in sweet understanding and growth.

The struggles will come and go.

The secret is to surf the highs and lows

and learn to fall gracefully 

and repeatedly.

There will always follow

chances to rise up again courageously.

We are here to love.

It is that simple –

and, also that complicated.

For most of us have learned

to turn away from the divine imprint

which shows us how to love

and accept our differences.

Remember that the journey of grace

is more inward

than outward.

We lose our layers of skin

and find peace in the presence

of this one moment.

We discover a deeper belonging.

We understand that we already have it all.

This is the amazing glimpse that,

when captured,

enables us to be the beautiful souls we are.

We can let go.

We can be free.

We can choose joy.

Copyright©Cynthia Cady Stanton, 2019

 

“Strange as it may seem today to say, the aim of life is to live, and to live means to be aware, joyously, drunkenly, serenely, divinely aware.”  – Henry Miller

 

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Poem · Poetry · Uncategorized

What the Trees Know

 

Sometimes it is important to sit under a tree.

You can rest from 

all the glare and heat.

God did not intend for us an endless panting –

nor a sweat which drains.

So drink in the breezes.

Stop yourself and rest.

Be.

For this is what the trees know…

they understand from their deepest root

that their shade is their best work –

and they are happy to share it.

Trees know what it feels like

to live as created to be.

There is no better peace

or joy.

Copyright© Cynthia Cady Stanton, 2019

Artwork by Martha Harris.  To see more of her work, go to artisticflarings.blog.

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Poem · Poetry · Uncategorized

We Are Needed

 

It takes just a moment

to pause and let go –

to notice.

Presence always waits patiently for us.

She is found in the smallest of things…

 

The slow drip of water 

off a rock

which holds the riverbank in place….

Presence is there.

 

The thought that gives birth to the word that spawns a tear…

Yes.  There.

 

In that moment between

the reach of your hand

to the lifting of another –

Or when the homeless man 

catches your eye and

a generous smile blooms…

There!

 

How short our time is!

We squander Presence like we waste water…

We forget to look,

to hear the slow drip,

to speak the unspoken word.

We get lonely in this poverty

of connection.

 

Sad, isn’t it?

This slip of a rose through the grasp of our fingers.

We ignore the dropped flower

and miss out on the bouquet,

the colors…

And then we grieve the loss of 

a flower to cheer us –

it’s brilliance unwitnessed.

 

Love is like this , too.

It can hide beneath.

 

So, let’s elevate the 

Presence and the Love, too.

For without them,

we aren’t even here.

And we are so needed.

 

Copyright© Cynthia Cady Stanton, 2019

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Poem · Poetry · Uncategorized

When the Poems Do Not Arrive

When the poems do not arrive,

it is time to sit and quiet.

Rest is needed

so trust in Life can

bubble up for expression

and flow in a new way.

 

When the poems do not arrive

and the wings of inspiration

do not lift and lighten,

one must look within with honesty.

Where are the blocks?

When found, raise them up

and bless them.  

Be grateful for the freedom they bring

when discovered and set aside.

 

When the poems do not arrive,

grieve a little and

then let go.

For there is no one to blame.

This is not about you.

There is only understanding

waiting for the dawn.

It always comes.

 

When the poems do not arrive,

be patient.

For when Presence returns,

so will the words that illuminate it.

 

Copyright© Cynthia Cady Stanton, 2019

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