Poem · Poetry

Eyes of Love

 

You look so put together

with everything in place

and sparkly.

You are a treat for tired eyes.

But I know better

than to be fooled by the surface of things.

Sometimes what appears on the outside

is the opposite

of what is on the inside.

We are crafty in our hiding ways.

So I open myself up

to the depths of you.

My eyes look past the veneer.

We could pretend –

play a game of make believe

and pretend the surface

is all there is.

It is, after all,

how most of us operate.

We barely even look at each other.

But who wants to live like that?

It makes my heart ache

at the thought

that what we see

is all there is.

No.

“Go deep!”

This is the call of the heart

and the work of Love

in our midst.

I will always be willing

to pull back the pretty curtain

and dare to see

what is true within.

Otherwise,

what is the point?

I am here for you,

ready to see

and to listen.

Copyright© Cynthia Cady Stanton, 2017

Eyes of Love 2

Poem · Poetry

What If?

You know that time
when you put your phone down
so you could attend to me instead?

Or that moment when I was starving,
and about to eat my 20 gram protein bar in the car
but saw a homeless man in the intersection,
and chose to go hungry –
handing him the bar through my open window
with a smile
and no regrets.

Or, how about
that day when I was terribly hurt and angry
and simply let it all go,
suddenly, and with faith and forgiveness
so I could refocus
on something larger than me,
beyond the anger
and the suffocating hurt.
Both just disappeared into a peaceful feeling.

There is a thread –
powerful in its connection
through these moments.
It seems to show
that when we step aside –
dare another way,
beautiful things can happen.

It makes me wonder…
What if?
What if God is the thread?
And the thread connects us to Love
And, well, everything that matters?

And what if God needs us?
Needs us to get out of our own way
and notice the thread?
What if
WE MAKE GOD HAPPEN?

Copyright© Cynthia Cady Stanton, 2017

woman on the beach

Poem · Poetry

Noticing

 

The way it feels

when I dare to step away from patterns

long held onto

with a tight knuckle grip

as a way to hold me up,

glue me together.

 

The look in your eyes

when I am really paying attention,

allowing my heart to open to you.

 

The soaring freedom that sends me

to new depths and heights

all at the same time

when I get out of my own way.

 

How pain disappears

when my attention turns in a divine direction

instead of towards my navel,

so clogged with repetitive angst.

 

How a long walk by the sea washes me

of all the garbage

I have allowed to enter my soul –

a baptism of surf and sound,

wind and grace.

The thunder of the surf rocking me,

holding me with an eternal embrace.

Oh, how healing that is!

 

How the voice of a great singer

sends my spirit soaring

and beckons me to use my voice

with full expression and power,

freeing it

and healing me from the multitude of ways

I have held it back.

 

How Love is present,

when I am present

whether with the dying,

my love,

or my cat.

Turning away from the moment

robs me,

robs us –

of God’s company.

 

Waking up is a beautiful thing –

a peeling of the layers –

that so strangle and constrict.

We think these layers are important

but they are all false construction.

I love the release as they fall away

allowing a deeper joy

to be found.

 

I am noticing

two openings:

my eyes with inspired vision,

my heart with a tender softening.

Both are wrapped up in deep peace.

 

Copyright © Cynthia Cady Stanton 2017

20170825_195535

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