Blow Me Over


Pour me a cup of coffee

and warm me up

with that gooey, lovely feeling

of being with an old friend.

The movement within my heart

is like a gentle wave

which rocks me –

or a wind which moves me,

opening both my lungs

and my heart, simultaneously.

I could weep at the memory.

How I miss our times together!

We so took for granted

the easy geography of sharing the

parenting of our kids,

the unfolding of our lives as

women caught – but growing through,

the married-wifey-mommy labyrinth.

Each of our paths ended up so different

but what was lasting remained.

We will always be friends,

despite the winds of change which

move through us and

around us, seemingly threatening

our deep connection.

I am not daunted by the wind.

Rather than being intimidated by its roar,

I am moved by the ways

it pushes us together

and opens our hearts ever so powerfully

when we are together.

For that moment,

we can be home

for each other –

and that means everything.

Copyright@ Cynthia Cady Stanton, 2018

two cups of coffee



Poem · Poetry

Infant Poet


It is the strangest thing

when a poem takes over.

Kidnapped by it,

sometimes it lifts me above

to broaden my view –

or it can

lean me forward

with such focus,

everything else falls away

except the nub of it all.


Expanding and contracting,

I breathe the poem

and it breathes me.

We are one,

locked in a gentle tussle

until it is time

for the poem to be born.


I never thought of myself

as a poet.

It feels like a gift

given to an infant –

like a mobile hanging above a crib,

like a toy

to keep me busy

and broaden my senses –

to show me who I am

and help me

find my words.

There is an awkwardness –

but also,

deep joy

and a radiance that



I have come to rely

on my poems.

They are a gift

akin to the blessing

of having a loving parent

whose embrace

shows me the way.


Copyright © Cynthia Cady Stanton, 2017


baby talk

Poem · Poetry

New Ground

The pull of patterns weighs me down

and sucks me in

to that space that agitates

and darkens the room

keeping me from the lightness

that beckons deeply.

Even with you,

though I longed to be next to you

after seasons apart,

what is new and better and different

struggles to shine.

We settle for old and familiar,

the constrictions

set long ago.


I want you to know me.

Not the me you think you know,

but the evolving me

that dares to bloom

even at my age,

when most settle for being set.

I’m not.

I am a dynamic canvas.

journey image

Copyright © 2017 Cynthia Cady Stanton