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 Gray

 

It seems easier

when what feels clear and true

is always right, too.

It is a comfort

when the ground on which

we stand and build upon

has the strength

of generations

or habit.

We like our side of the street.

The other side

is far away, and

difficult to see.

It is not important to us.

For all is clear where we are.

It feels safe and protected.

In between these sharp edges

of clarity

is the territory

of the gray.

It is a fuzzier place.

The ground seems shakier.

We are repelled by it –

but, at times,

a bit curious, too.

Mostly,

we prefer familiar ground.

Thankfully, life ends up instructing us

along the way,

through hardship and insight,

to be more open to the gray.

Our edges get worn down

and are revealed to us

as false structures.

In the middle,

is the place of softening

and opening up.

It is the place of meeting –

of healing.

Life is less

black and white

in the gray.

There are new choices to explore,

colors to adore.

When we can learn

to embrace

this middle place,

wisdom is born,

along with a letting go

which liberates

and brings us together.

When we enter the gray,

we have learned the value

of dropping

what does not matter.

Copyright@ Cynthia Cady Stanton, 2018

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Poem · Poetry

The Body Knows

 

You bark at me

when I am off kilter –

when you don’t get what you need.

I can hear you 

scratching at my door

seeking urgent attention.

I get in my head

and forget you need me, too,

and I need to be present.

Like a caged cheetah,

your tension tells me

that something is amiss.

Gradually, through your constant blabbering,

I get the message.

I learn to listen to you.

Your complaining wakes me up:

This pain, that stiffness, is not you. Stop and see.”

I open my eyes,

look deep within,

and find there is more.

I can change my way of being.

Peace is born.

Copyright© Cynthia Cady Stanton, 2018

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Poem · Poetry

Then Sings My Soul

When wanting meets realization

and dis-ease catches a glimpse

of healing,

my eyes spring open –

and I can see, once again,

how You are right here,

right here.

Life is a beautiful dance.

The music always plays,

with You leading my steps,

and I, in faith, following,

sometimes tripping along-

crying or laughing my way forward –

humbled by my missteps,

and blessed when I move

with grace.

Nevertheless,

and more and more,

I realize,

when I look up

from my preoccupation with

my own feet,

You are here,

You are here.

The dance we share

is as reliable as Life itself.

and its music

floats my heart skyward

as my soul

breaks into song.

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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