Poem · Poetry · Uncategorized

We Are Needed

 

It takes just a moment

to pause and let go –

to notice.

Presence always waits patiently for us.

She is found in the smallest of things…

 

The slow drip of water 

off a rock

which holds the riverbank in place….

Presence is there.

 

The thought that gives birth to the word that spawns a tear…

Yes.  There.

 

In that moment between

the reach of your hand

to the lifting of another –

Or when the homeless man 

catches your eye and

a generous smile blooms…

There!

 

How short our time is!

We squander Presence like we waste water…

We forget to look,

to hear the slow drip,

to speak the unspoken word.

We get lonely in this poverty

of connection.

 

Sad, isn’t it?

This slip of a rose through the grasp of our fingers.

We ignore the dropped flower

and miss out on the bouquet,

the colors…

And then we grieve the loss of 

a flower to cheer us –

it’s brilliance unwitnessed.

 

Love is like this , too.

It can hide beneath.

 

So, let’s elevate the 

Presence and the Love, too.

For without them,

we aren’t even here.

And we are so needed.

 

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

The Heart of It All

 

The hand that grasps and controls

is the same hand

that lets go.

 

The mind that sorts and decides

is the same mind  

that can be opened by mystery

or pain.

 

The eyes that do not really see

but look past,

are the same ones

that can catch the vision

of truth.

 

We are but soft clay

yet we act as if cast in stone –

armored in our ways.

But life is not done shaping us.

Changes always come to

meet us where we are

and show us another way.

 

The time for invocation is here.

So lift up your sad, stiff heart –

mistakenly broken by you alone –

and ask Life to soften it.

For the heart of it all,

it seems,

is to be anchored in softness –

so you can be ready for anything.

Copyright© Cynthia Cady Stanton, 2019

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Poem · Poetry · Uncategorized

When the Poems Do Not Arrive

When the poems do not arrive,

it is time to sit and quiet.

Rest is needed

so trust in Life can

bubble up for expression

and flow in a new way.

 

When the poems do not arrive

and the wings of inspiration

do not lift and lighten,

one must look within with honesty.

Where are the blocks?

When found, raise them up

and bless them.  

Be grateful for the freedom they bring

when discovered and set aside.

 

When the poems do not arrive,

grieve a little and

then let go.

For there is no one to blame.

This is not about you.

There is only understanding

waiting for the dawn.

It always comes.

 

When the poems do not arrive,

be patient.

For when Presence returns,

so will the words that illuminate it.

 

Copyright© Cynthia Cady Stanton, 2019

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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 · Uncategorized

A Breath That is Free

 

If our moments are forgotten,

did we really live them?

If our thoughts are in charge,

are we present at all?

If our breath is held,

is it really a breath?

I pause with these questions

and my ears open to the hum of my home,

and the song of the birds outside.

My vision is sparked by

the morning light filtering through the trees.

The glow is beautiful.

I notice that as I write,

my posture is hunched,

and I am tight in all the usual places.

I release the usual.

Relaxing and deepening awareness

of my breath,

and my gratitude for it all,

I begin again.

I am present and I live this moment.

Grace and peace find me 

in the movement of my breath.

I am ready for the gift of another day.

Copyright© Cynthia Cady Stanton, 2019

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Poem · Poetry · Uncategorized

Snow on Trees

 

Don’t despair the soul season

when all the green is gone

and you feel darkened

and bare.

These are the times when

you stand alone, while

everyone looks past you

to escape to the horizon beyond.

You feel planted in place

with nowhere to grow, and

the present brittleness

makes you snap easily.

Though unpleasant and cold –

while in this raw nakedness, 

please be reminded that

you are in a good position.

You are in the right place –

the proper season.

You are ripe for grace.

A season of cold and dark

is a gift like no other.

For when the white glow arrives,

softly blanketing and

offering beauty and peace –

healing is gifted.

You are born again with the

verdant seeds needed

to bloom again

and commune with others.

Copyright© Cynthia Cady Stanton, 2019

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