Poem · Poetry · Uncategorized

Here I Stand

 

I lift up my eyes

and I look around.

There is blessedness here…

and it was there, too.

I see differently now –

my distorted vision finally giving way to clarity.

The work of letting go

has been harder than expected.

But now I can see that

the grip is the giver of pain

and its loosening,

is grace received.

So here I stand 

at the bank of the river of gladness.

I am finally ready to move toward yes.

I let go again, and

surrender to the divine flow.

All is well as I learn

the nature of floating.

Copyright© Cynthia Cady Stanton, 2019

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Poem · Poetry · Uncategorized

That Part of Me

 

My heart is working hard these days

with loss and loneliness.

I am an orphan seeking home. 

The grief of moving through the landscape which

is my life

tugs at the ways I have 

stitched myself together.

This waking up is painful –

but as I move forward,

I open my heart to it.

 

It is a time of deepening –

of allowing the mystery to instruct

and show me

the location of my true belonging.

The older I get,

the more acquainted I am

with this type of deep reckoning.

It is familiar terrain and

I have visited it often.

When I look back, I can see this.

But in this moment, 

choosing to be present

feels like valor.

 

I gradually take on the challenge

as little pieces of me mend.

I begin to hear again the 

warm and forgiving invitation.

It calls to me like

a song over the hillside,

sending music to my ears and heart.

I allow this embrace of mystery which

wells up within my very soul.

This is the place which

connects me to the beauty of it all

and the realization of belonging.

I find my way home again

and I learn to dwell in a sweet peace.

I dare to hold everything –

all the precious pain and longing.

Thanksgiving visits me –

I am surprised as it wells up like a wave

and invites me to rest in a beautiful tenderness.

This is Life and Grace

given and received.

They had never left.

 

Copyright© Cynthia Cady Stanton, 2019

“Secret work is being done in us of which we have no inkling.”  John O’Donahue

 

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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

Big Girl Pants

I noticed her struggle.

It was one of those days when

the burden of work, life, and

responsibility 

made her bow low,

even as she quickly moved about.

She was weary –

maybe even in pain,

her eyes with the dark circles below which

appear regularly now,

despite daily application

of concealer.

She kept going,

kept producing,

despite her burden.

                  I’ve got my big girl pants on, she said.

I could empathize

because I get tired, too.

I understand how hard it is to stop

and just be –

to observe the blessings

along the way.

Perhaps one of the perks 

of getting old

is that as responsibilities

and requirements

fall away,

we can finally 

rest.

Copyright© Cynthia Cady Stanton, 2018

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Poem · Poetry

Talking to Pain

I have become too familiar

with your presence.

It is as if you belong to me

and I am stuck with you.

But my soul calls out

in gentle whispers

and questions that lie.

I am separate from you.

You hang around

as a distraction and a restraint

which holds me back.

When you show up,

you have my full attention.

I am lost.

But as I grow,

I now realize the Truth

that you and I? Well,

we are not friends.

I do not need you anymore.

And yet, you do have a role

as a Teacher and a tool

to remind me to get Present.

I shake you off like a bad dream

and begin to question you.

What are you trying to tell me?

Now when you show up

I pause and breathe

and get interested in my thoughts.

My mind becomes a classroom

with you as

the unpopular teacher

who forces me to blossom.

I begin to listen to you

and turn my attention

to the Truth of

who I am.

Everything opens up

and I am free.

Copyright@ Cynthia Cady Stanton, 2018

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