Poem · Poetry

Calming the Outer Storm

It is a slow creep –

the way the stress of life builds.

We live bombarded

by the need to rush,

bending over backwards

to meet the demands.

The expectations given

feed our perfectionistic patterns

and we get lost

by the constant doing.

That is what living from the outside

is like.

It exhausts and

makes us into fools

who think we are being productive.

To live from within,

one must commit to

slowing the pace, and

nix the needy drive

that cares too much

what others think and believe –

that invests in having

and holding

all the things

that make us look good.

True peace resides

where inner knowing lives –

blanketed by what is true,

and by the power

of the unseen.

Living from the inside

means listening to

the whispers underneath –

the voice that beckons

and seeks to heal us –

Take a walk on the beach.

Let your feet crunch a wooden path.

Allow a cat to rest in your lap.

Bow your head and offer a prayer.

Observe and honor a compassionate moment.

These are places where the whispers await…

To live from the outside

is to get lost

in the whirlwind of

the superficial.

But to live from the inside

is to be fueled by

purpose and

to be connected to

a larger dimension –

a place that 

too few find.

Love is the main thing, of course.

It is the thread that connects us

at the soul

to God’s heart.

The only way to find peace

on this weary planet of ours

is to realize

that each one of us

is born to be free.

Our job and journey

is to discover that.

When we do,

the peace within

which passes all understanding

will bless us 

and enable us to be a blessing

for others.

Copyright© Cynthia Cady Stanton, 2018

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Poem · Poetry

Pearls

Oh, the precious lessons

along the way!

They seem so hidden

at first –

but when they arrive,

or get uncovered,

they shine with brilliance.

We trudge and troll –

weary of the path,

tripping in the same old ways…

but when our eyes 

dare to look anew,

we may spot a pearl.

Its presence

is grace revealed.

Its beauty

releasing us

of our misdirected ways.

A pocket full of pearls

is the treasure of

transcendence.

Keep your pearls close you.

They whisper and lift

as you continue on.

Copyright© Cynthia Cady Stanton, 2018

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Poem · Poetry

Making the U Turn

 

When the trip wire

gets touched

and partially healed places

wound again,

take a breath.

Your usual patterns

of blame and retaliation

will not serve you.

In fact,

they will deepen the wound.

The truth is

the world will always

try to trip you up.

And the world

is everything outside of you.

To survive with grace

and even joy,

no matter the obstacles before you,

live from the inside.

That is where truth lives –

the place of your divine self.

Nothing outside of you

can destroy your peace

without your permission.

Turn away from drama.

Go deep.

Look at yourself.

Copyright© Cynthia Cady Stanton, 2018

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Poem · Poetry

The Call of the Light

Breaking through the gray

as the darkness begins to enfold me,

it appears:

               Remember me?  I am here.

I barely  hear its message.

I am too caught up in the gloom.

              Remember me?  I am here.

The light persists…

but the darkness holds on.

              Look up, look out.  There is more.

The invitation gets more urgent

for the light can see

more than I can.

It does not want

the darkness to swallow me.

The light begins to reach out

and touch me.

It opens my heart.

As my heart warms and flexes,

my vision gradually blooms –

the shadows retreat

and the glow arrives.

I am healing

and the light

leads me forward.

Copyright© Cynthia Cady Stanton, 2018

Artwork by my sister, Martha Harris:  “Beacon”

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Poem · Poetry

Each One, A Mountain

Everyone has something

It is a mantra that is inwardly voiced

more and more

as I get older.

We each have our own brand of challenge.

As life progresses,

these challenges unfold

and introduce themselves.

Sometimes they swallow us up

with the force of a big ocean wave…

Or, they might creep upon us

like a spreading mold.

We get to choose 

how to respond

when our personal mountain

shows up.

For some,

the mountain may be too vast

to climb alone –

so we bring loving souls with us.

For others,

the mountain may be a series of hills

which warrants a solo journey –

each vista building strength within.

We may fool ourselves, thinking

that our mountain 

is bigger than anyone else’s –

that somehow,

our mountain warrants

special attention…

But as we mature,

and build our climbing muscles,

our compassionate heart opens,

our personal nature fades,

and our vision widens

to see what others endure.

Our climbing becomes

the road to awakening

to what this life 

is all about.

Yes, we each have a mountain –

especially designed for our own unfolding…

but as we meet it,

with grace and courage,

the vista that comes,

connects us to the 

suffering of others.

This is the stuff of

a life well-lived.

So, I bow to my mountain –

giving thanks for its lessons…

for without its presence,

I would walk with blinders on,

tripping on my own feet,

and all alone.

Copyright© Cynthia Cady Stanton, 2018

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Poem · Poetry

Holy, Holy

Not one of us is perfect.

Not one of us is fully formed.

We are but buds on the stem,

and wobbly saplings,

with thirsty roots –

searching for ground.

Every day,

we come up short in some way.

We offend our intentions, 

allowing the pain within

to attach more deeply.

Our path is littered with

all we have dropped,

despite all the trying

on the way to perfect.

To heal,

we turn around,

and gaze upon the lessons…

We pick them up,

one at a time,

and lift them to our heart.

In the lifting, we proclaim:

Holy, holy.

Holy, holy.

Now touched by grace,

we can turn around, facing forward –

and begin again –

reminded of what it feels like

to be held.

Copyright© Cynthia Cady Stanton, 2018

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