Tag: Poetry
Short and Sweet
To be a poet,
wake up with wings poised to
float on your morning breath.
Let your eyes open as windows
that God may see.
Turn on the inner flame
and alight the senses.
Choose to be the love
you seek to understand.
Be watchful as
the words arrive
and sing faithfully
from the heart of your soul.
Surrender to how
they change you
as the poem
is born.
Copyright© Cynthia Cady Stanton, 2018
This Journey
On the other side
and over the hump,
I catch a vision of the new
before me,
and within me.
It was a rough season –
all the falling and stumbling
behind me.
I look back –
and though I do not want
to go back again,
my heart sings –
for I am grateful.
The lessons have arrived –
some like a ton of bricks…
but after getting knocked down,
I got up –
again and again.
You assisted –
helping my legs remember their strength
and teaching me to rest, too.
I surrendered to the season –
reluctantly at first…
but as I let go,
healing arrived.
Now here I stand.
I am firmly grounded
in a whole new way of being.
Thank you.
Thank you from the bottom of my feet
through my heart and
radiating upward
and outward
from every pore of life in me.
May the lessons gained
root deeply in my soul.
Understanding has blessed me, and
I am fashioned anew.
Thanks be to the One
who gives beyond measure!
Holy is your name.
Your creation of me continues
with deepening grace.
I am in awe.
Copyright© Cynthia Cady Stanton, 2018
I Can See Who You Are
We hustle.
We bustle.
We cover up.
We avoid.
In the constant press forward,
the moments are lost.
When able to still ourselves,
we can catch glimpses of
what is real.
I sat with a patient,
one of the sweet ones
with dementia.
Her eyes alive
with love and openness…
Her speech cute and senseless
most of the time.
I am present to her
and focus on being –
instead of doing.
When the time for goodbye comes,
I touch her shoulder
and lean in.
Her eyes widen
as these words spill forth
in clarity and affection:
“I can see who you are!”
Grace finds me
and I am blessed by her glimpse.
I am reminded…
I am Love.
Copyright@ Cynthia Cady Stanton, 2018
This Gathering
A walk along the shore
would soothe
as would
the vision of you
reaching towards me.
Why can love feel
so elusive?
Your broken places
touch mine
and we are so far apart.
I lift up all the questions,
all the loss –
and present them to the heavens.
My offering is
an act of surrender
and faith.
This gathering of my heart
and the recognition of its movement
brings me to the place
beyond the beyond –
it reminds me
of my need for God
and what is real.
There is comfort in the lifting, and
I am blessed with
a new lightness of being
which enables movement
foreward.
Copyright© Cynthia Cady Stanton, 2018
Entering the Dance
When the winds are shifting,
and change is here,
I sometimes shudder with
fear, which blankets my heart
in a covering so itchy…
the restlessness it brings
grows like a cancer,
consuming health.
I wonder out loud,
and through every pore –
my cells scream
No!
The resistance builds a wall
around my soul,
and I begin to hide.
I grieve…
the tears wash over
all the tensions and aches,
bringing yet another baptism.
Eventually, I remember
that changes bring a
kind of birthing process…
and I know there is
something beautiful coming
after this pain.
I love how tears
release and inform
all at once – as if
we must break, deeply –
apart and before
we can be refashioned.
These very insights, eventually
bring gratitude.
I know,
it does’t make sense
to the logical mind…
but it is the dance of Spirit
within and beyond me.
When I learn to
accept the invitation to
the dance of life,
letting go of my need to
lead it,
I get lighter on my feet,
and my being
finally hears the music
and is wrapped in comfort
and delight.
I am set free.
Copyright© Cynthia Cady Stanton, 2018
Message Received
My love went for a walk yesterday.
It was a sunny day and
the trees were singing.
Each step was an affirmation
of a beautiful day.
Walking is a wonderful way to connect
to the divine,
to our higher purpose.
The rhythm of movement
works like a physical mantra:
I move forward from my center. I connect to the ground.
As our muscles propel us,
our heart is lifted,
and we breathe in life,
like a hungry balloon.
Walking gives us the perfect visual
of the spiritual journey…
Sometimes there are bumps to avoid
and hills to climb
or descend.
We are careful not to trip.
Along the way,
we notice things –
the beauty of the trees,
the dogs being walked,
the smiles of our neighbors.
Walking gives our minds a chance
to wander, too –
to ponder the deep things
while our legs do their work.
On this particular journey,
my love, in a pensive moment,
content with his journey,
and the thoughts nourishing,
looked down.
On the ground was a paper,
and like a message from the beyond,
it spoke these words:
“I am Love.”
And just like that,
everything connected.
His heart soared skyward and
the message was received
deeply blessing his soul.
Copyright© Cynthia Cady Stanton, 2018
Glowing
Oh, give me eyes to see
beneath either fluff
or fear,
underneath pain and harm –
that essential beam
of light and love
which warms and glows!
I want to be a glow detector –
within myself,
and everyone I meet.
For the glow
is where God is visible –
and who doesn’t want to see God?
It takes practice,
this right view.
It does not come easily –
because we have all been trained
to focus elsewhere.
It means getting out of
my own way… once again,
the ongoing lesson,
I keep bumping into,
and tripping over,
along the way.
But dwelling in the Glow,
reflecting its Light,
living in the Beam…
that is where I want to be.
Nothing else really matters,
or is real.
Glow on!
Let your path be a lighted one.
Copyright© Cynthia Cady Stanton, 2018
Buttery Grace
When love is real,
it is easy –
effortless in its appearance,
warm and yummy,
like buttery grace.
It comes from the beyond,
much like inspiration does –
and wisdom is infused
within all its practicalities.
It simply makes sense.
It feels like the sweetest hug.
It sounds like a soothing tide on the move.
It looks like a rose in bloom, and
has the aroma of
bread in the toaster.
It calls to you like bird song in the morning.
These are the measures
of love that is true.
When you have it,
you know, and
trust becomes the glue.
Copyright© Cynthia Cady Stanton, 2018
Why Poem’s Have Impact
Becoming and Beholding 