Poem · Poetry · Uncategorized

Home

 

My heart is at a loss as it

searches for a home –

even as I sit here, even as I sit here in

the comfort of this place.

 

My heart is at a loss as it

reaches for a peace – 

a peace that calms my restless soul, a soul

that cannot settle in this mess.

 

My heart is at a loss as it

feels strangled by new limits,

limits that are new and have descended in a

tidal wave, a wave that overwhelms me.

 

My heart is at a loss as it dreams of

better days, as it dreams of better days filled with

comfort and touch, the touch that heals and soothes,

and plays with long-lost freedom.

 

This is the home I am in, a home that

holds the fears and worries, a home

that keeps me safe from harm, still. Though my heart is

a tangle which longs to loosen, it is my home, it

is my home. 

Copyright© Cynthia Cady Stanton, March, 2020black-home-area-rug-2950003

Poem · Poetry · Uncategorized

Nevertheless, Spring Forth!

 

The weight is heavy – 

this boulder on top of you.

It came out of nowhere!

You are stuck.

Never before have you felt such a hard, unrelenting blockage.

This rock is cold.

This pain is real.

It is time to hunker down

and see who is with you –

to be reminded that you are not alone.

Your roots reach to touch others

who share your dilemma,

your pain.

As the seeds within you

fight for survival,

you dare to stretch. 

You find another.

Together, your reach is stronger.

Together, you find a community –

one that works together

to search the cold surfaces 

to find the cracks.

For, no matter how hard the rock is,

it is no match

for the faith of a community

that seeks the light.

Your strength is in knowing that

the light is always there.

It cannot be extinguished –

no matter how big or daunting

the rock is.

 

Therefore, bloom!

Do not give up.

Reach for the light together.

Crack that rock apart

and let the strength within

spring forth!

You have it in you –

for you were born to find the light.

Copyright© Cynthia Cady Stanton, 2020

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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