Poem · Poetry · Uncategorized

We Are Needed

 

It takes just a moment

to pause and let go –

to notice.

Presence always waits patiently for us.

She is found in the smallest of things…

 

The slow drip of water 

off a rock

which holds the riverbank in place….

Presence is there.

 

The thought that gives birth to the word that spawns a tear…

Yes.  There.

 

In that moment between

the reach of your hand

to the lifting of another –

Or when the homeless man 

catches your eye and

a generous smile blooms…

There!

 

How short our time is!

We squander Presence like we waste water…

We forget to look,

to hear the slow drip,

to speak the unspoken word.

We get lonely in this poverty

of connection.

 

Sad, isn’t it?

This slip of a rose through the grasp of our fingers.

We ignore the dropped flower

and miss out on the bouquet,

the colors…

And then we grieve the loss of 

a flower to cheer us –

it’s brilliance unwitnessed.

 

Love is like this , too.

It can hide beneath.

 

So, let’s elevate the 

Presence and the Love, too.

For without them,

we aren’t even here.

And we are so needed.

 

Copyright© Cynthia Cady Stanton, 2019

art-close-up-ecology-886521

Poem · Poetry · Uncategorized

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

blur-branch-close-up-136347

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

abdomen-belly-black-and-white-735966

Poem · Poetry

When I Am Not Writing

 

The babbling brook that

is the stream of life, passes

before me,

its eternal and purposeful movement,

effortlessly dancing –

its whispers inviting me

into the water.

I sit on the shore,

afraid to get wet –

mistaken by the idea

that in staying dry,

I can somehow 

avoid the discomfort and uncertainty

of change –

when in actuality,

I am delaying my

ongoing baptism into Life.

In this moment,

I dip my toe back in.

 

Copyright© Cynthia Cady Stanton, 2018

adult-adventure-blue-jeans-286694