Poem · Poetry

This Heart

I suppose I am
one of the lucky ones.
I got a heart that was loved
from the beginning –
despite imperfect parents,
with broken hearts of their own.

I knew from the beginning
that I was loved.

That is huge.

My heart had a grounding –
an ontological gift,
an understanding that
no matter what,
it was worthy of affection.

That grounding
has been my strength.
It has lifted me above the long
and bumpy road by
connecting me
to the Divine.
A kind of safety ladder…

Through many seasons of lack
and longing
have I arrived
finally
to a place of fullness –
even bursting!
I have been filled up
and pried open
with the gentle tool
of growing awareness
of what a heart can be –
what a heart can do.

This is my heart:
open and ready –
stretching to you.
Free!

Take and seal it.

Copyright© Cynthia Cady Stanton, 2017

grounded heart

Poem · Poetry

The Opening

It is the space between
what I hear
and how I receive it.

It is the time between
what I think
and what I do.

It is the moment of rest
I sometimes allow
before the next thing.

This is the place that needs enlarging.
But I tend to keep it small,
even though it beckons me
with sweet whispers
and gentle nudges.

I hear it in the rhythm of the waves
and the rustle of the dancing leaves.
I see it in the glide of the seagulls
and the ballet of the small shorebirds
as they float across the shoreline.
Be like us,
they seem to say.
Float through your day.
It is easy
if you let go
and feel the flow.

The invitation is always there,
expansive and inviting –
a huge place of calm and beauty
waiting to hold me
with a comforting embrace.
Waiting to lead me
to the unimaginable.

But I am distracted.

I know I am not alone in this.

Thankfully,
Grace is a beautiful and patient teacher.
She has taught me many things.
I finally know that
You are in the space that calls.
You are in each breath –
especially the deep ones.
You are in me.
You are around me.
You work through me.
You need me as much as
I need you.

I have learned that turning away from you
and ignoring your sweet beaconing
is akin to a slow and lonely death.

Opening to You –
and the spaces between,
is like coming home
to who I am.

plovers in flight

Copyright© 2017 Cynthia Cady Stanton