Poem · Poetry · Uncategorized

What Lies Beneath

 

The deeper I go

into understanding all

that is,

the more

I appreciate this

gift of life.

Working with the dying

is a visual lesson

of the peeling away of

the layers.

It is also a heart lesson.

For when the exterior is finished,

what is left?

This is the ever-present question.

To live from heart and soul,

and to avoid the outward distractions,

means to leave

your presence and love behind

when the body is gone.

So, I am learning the lessons

of letting go now.

I let go of everything

that is not connected to Truth and Love.

Because when my body is gone,

I want those who knew me

to know that my love was real

and that I lived with an open 

and generous heart.

For it is the Love that lies beneath

that lingers after we leave.

This is the miracle of

eternal life.

We live on in the hearts of others

and in the memory of time.

Copyright© Cynthia Cady Stanton, 2019

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Poem · Poetry · Uncategorized

Holding Hands

 

Like trees sharing the same forest,

we reach for one another

as we bask in the light of life.

In moments of ease

and in times of stress,

it really does not matter which –

I love when our fingers are entwined

and I can feel the warmth of you.

No words need to be spoken

so we can do this lovely action

even in public.

All that is needed is the touch of skin

and the wrapping of fingers

to affirm our connection.

We are in this together,

you and I.

We have journeyed together enough now that

my soul has memorized the 

contours of your hand

and how sweetly mine fits within it.

I shall carry you with me always

though all kinds of weather

and even when we are apart.

For your hand is now imprinted

on my heart.

Copyright© Cynthia Cady Stanton, 2019

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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

Mosaic Moments

 

Transitions increase a felt wistfulness.

We look back

and long for

what worked before.

Those pieces of us that

like routine and

the comfort of the predictable –

well, those parts feel sharp

in such seasons –

the edges hurt.

And yet, there is the buzz –

the bubbling energy of the new,

of possibility.

There are new faces to greet,

new tasks to learn and

fresh ways to open the heart

and to be.

Life is

as life does-

and its mysteries inspire and instruct.

Its best when 

there is a mix of things

for the creative touch of God is genius

and multi-dimensional.

So, even when loss

is the larger piece at the time,

there will always be the sparkle

and felt presence

of grace, of love … even joy.

When awake,

we can wonder at and

give thanks for 

the whole design of it all.

We see our piece in the creation.

Copyright© Cynthia Cady Stanton, 2019

Gratitude for Anne Lamott and her coining of the term, “mosaic moments” in her recent book, Almost Everything.

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Poem · Poetry · Uncategorized

Homecoming

 

When walking next to the shore,

take in the salted air.

It tastes like your tears.

 

When walking next to the shore,

listen to the music of the surf.

It is the soundtrack of the movement in your heart.

 

When walking next to the shore,

watch the swoop and dance of the Plover birds.

They effortlessly play in the waves,

undaunted by the constant changes beneath their tiny feet.

Witness the lesson.

 

A walk by the ocean

is always a homecoming.

The whispers heard soothe the soul.

The sprays felt baptize us anew.

We are reminded that

sometimes we need to get wet

to begin again.

So take a walk on the beach.

Hear the invitation of its dynamic landscape:

               Let’s be the ocean together.

 

Copyright© Cynthia Cady Stanton, 2019

You are not a drop in the ocean. You are the entire ocean in a drop. – Rumi

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Poem · Poetry · Uncategorized

The Call of the Morning Bird

 

A chorus has erupted

and it filters through the open window.

A haunting call began it all.

Is it a cry? An alarm? 

Is this creature hungry?

The cry repeats in

a rhythm of hurt.

As I attend to its voice,

I begin to hear others return the call.

Their message seems to say:

                All is well.

               We are here!

                Join us- for you belong in the world.

               We care about you.

After some time, and continued voicing,

the cry of the suffering bird eases.

 

Attending to this natural befriending

soothes my soul.

I begin this day 

with the reminder that

we are one –

and attending to our sacred cries

is as natural and reliable as

the rising of the morning sun.

Our presence with one another

has the reassuring power

of gifting hope

and returning us to stillness.

Copyright© Cynthia Cady Stanton, 2019

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