Poem · Poetry

A Teacher in the Midst

 

He sits in my lap

purring away, as is his normal routine.

We greet the morning together

this way

every day.

Me with my coffee and laptop,

him with an open attentiveness.

Sure, the creature needs have been met –

he has had his breakfast –

and I already noted my coffee…

But once nurtured and fed,

my kitty always presents himself to me

to demonstrate his gratitude.

There is no other agenda –

just togetherness and 

presence embraced.

I celebrate this simplicity 

and his example.

He is regal in his ability to just be.

It is a treasure to behold.

I take a moment to bow to the Master

and give thanks for his furry presence

freely given.

Namaste, dear creature.

I can see you.

Copyright© Cynthia Cady Stanton, 2019

Poem · Poetry · Uncategorized

Grace Shower

Be watchful in the weather

of life,

for as your experiences show up,

their effect can either dampen and chill you,

or bless you with warm peace.

So much depends

on where you stand at the time

and if you are awake

or not.

Your life can be a challenge –

that is true.

And also the point.

For the challenges teach

and also preach

if we are present in the pew

and looking upward and inward

for understanding.

Be watchful for the weather of truth

which will come and go

like the wind which

gives us waves to ride

until we learn 

how to balance on them.

And when we are ready to ride,

having built up our core,

the rain of grace

will shower down upon us,

gently cleansing us

with new realizations

of what is true.

And in this baptism of insight,

we are made new again

by the healing that

has finally arrived.

Copyright© Cynthia Cady Stanton, 2019

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Poem · Poetry · Uncategorized

Late Bloomer

 

I saw some unusual flowers yesterday

which bloomed in unexpected ways.

Their beauty ignited my heart

and blessed me with renewed vision.

Witnessing a perfect glow can do that –

it connects us to what is real

and true.

 

We color the world with so many hues –

the seasons directing the light

and filling the wide spectrum perfectly.

Sometimes the necessary germination before

the the colors can be expressed

takes time –

and that is by design.

For a full bloom

cannot be forced prematurely.

 

To be a flower

means being present to

the light being born in you

in its own time.

Your bloom will arrive in its fullness,

according to the Gardener’s plan.

 

Therefore, rest in the truth of the sunrise

and be soothed by the rain.

Wait your turn.

Your job is to allow the glow to be born in you

and to trust in the promised opening.

For part of the beauty of it all

is that the timing of your full flowering is not up to you…

It is perfectly fine and beautiful still

to be a late bloomer.

Copyright©Cynthia Cady Stanton, 2019

Photo credit by Gary Stanton, taken at Heritage Museums and Gardens in Sandwich, MA.

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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

In the Chill of Winter

 

In the chill of winter,

build a fire big enough

to warm

your fingers and toes.

Allow the warmth 

to travel to

your center –

let the grip of

cold and contraction

relax.

As you loosen and warm,

release your fear

of harsh winds

and insidious ice

which, in its blackness,

sneaks up on you

and threatens to knock you down.

 

In the chill of winter,

burn with awareness.

Let go of complaining

and resistance,

for they hasten the cold

to root in your being.

Instead, look to creation.

Honor the season.

What can the cold teach us?

The trees do not argue.

The squirrels settle in.

The birds accept the change

and move southward. 

The plants rest.

All of nature flows with the seasons.

So, in the chill of winter,

build a fire,

rest and be warm,

discover wonder and joy

at the coating of the white –

a pure dusting 

which baptizes in beauty,

reflecting the light.

Let this inspire you, and

when you are ready,

learn to play with the cold.

Build a snowman.

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

Be Lifted

I sometimes like to watch

the float of a feather.

It can show up unannounced

and bless me

with fresh lightness.

Watching its flowing movement

with no steering wheel

to direct 

or engine powering it –

Well, it looks like freedom.

Most of us 

tend to be weighted

by our day to day.

We load up our minds

with fiction

that keeps us from

the float of grace

intended for us.

Watch the feather,

I tell myself.

It has no need to 

drive or direct,

no agenda to meet,

no cares to protect.

It simply rests

on the unseen flow of life.

It rises above beautifully.

The feather’s lift

is a wonder to behold –

the mystery and gift

of grace realized.

Copyright© Cynthia Cady Stanton, 2018

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