Tag: Spirit
Our Larger Belonging
I
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
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
Enough Already
Don’t worry about the direction
ahead, or the matters of the day.
Simply place your hand
on your own heart
and feel the love there – love
that was given long ago
that you may have forgotten.
Don’t be the person who
allows busyness to run
over your life, squashing it
with good intentions, and
all that learned stupidness which
pulls us away from
this preciousness given.
Remember those moments
when God has broken through –
those glimpses when you
knew beyond a doubt that
you are made of the same stuff
as the flowers and trees, and
forever is possible – that
Love is You, and
You are Love.
Let yourself glow, please.
For those who do, are
born in true freedom.
For in stepping aside from
the pettiness of all our
misdirected ways, we can
float like a feather
on the breath of God.
Copyright© Cynthia Cady Stanton, 2019
Nurture
You are but a drooping plant
with a bowed-browned bloom.
Your light is not reflecting –
the shadows grow.
Grief visible like this
is more easily watered.
It calls out for nurturance.
When hidden,
it festers
and roots into every pore,
making us sick –
stealing the colors.
This is the usual way…
for we are all good at facades
and hiding.
We smile brightly,
despite the pained cracks within.
Where does it hurt, my friend?
Show me the place
and tell me the story.
Dig out the pain from
your hardened crusts – fashionably covered.
Lift your voice and let the cry be born.
Let me know what is needed.
Take the covers off
and allow the hurt to move you
to a new place of freedom.
All is well, and
I am here with you.
You belong.
Copyright© Cynthia Cady Stanton, 2019
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
Word Provider
Often when I sit to write,
the decision is spontaneous.
I may be in my usual routine,
and then the urge bubbles up.
A thought comes…
Maybe I will write.
Then I simply position my fingers on the keyboard
and out it flows.
My head, heart, and fingers
are connected to that larger reality
that usually slips through the fingers.
It is an act of faith –
to put myself in the position
to be available
and receive.
I trust the words will come.
And when they do,
I am one with Inspiration
and being
me.
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
Be Lifted
I sometimes like to watch
the float of a feather.
It can show up unannounced
and bless me
with fresh lightness.
Watching its flowing movement
with no steering wheel
to direct
or engine powering it –
Well, it looks like freedom.
Most of us
tend to be weighted
by our day to day.
We load up our minds
with fiction
that keeps us from
the float of grace
intended for us.
Watch the feather,
I tell myself.
It has no need to
drive or direct,
no agenda to meet,
no cares to protect.
It simply rests
on the unseen flow of life.
It rises above beautifully.
The feather’s lift
is a wonder to behold –
the mystery and gift
of grace realized.
Copyright© Cynthia Cady Stanton, 2018
Becoming and Beholding 