Poem · Poetry · Uncategorized

In the Chill of Winter

 

In the chill of winter,

build a fire big enough

to warm

your fingers and toes.

Allow the warmth 

to travel to

your center –

let the grip of

cold and contraction

relax.

As you loosen and warm,

release your fear

of harsh winds

and insidious ice

which, in its blackness,

sneaks up on you

and threatens to knock you down.

 

In the chill of winter,

burn with awareness.

Let go of complaining

and resistance,

for they hasten the cold

to root in your being.

Instead, look to creation.

Honor the season.

What can the cold teach us?

The trees do not argue.

The squirrels settle in.

The birds accept the change

and move southward. 

The plants rest.

All of nature flows with the seasons.

So, in the chill of winter,

build a fire,

rest and be warm,

discover wonder and joy

at the coating of the white –

a pure dusting 

which baptizes in beauty,

reflecting the light.

Let this inspire you, and

when you are ready,

learn to play with the cold.

Build a snowman.

Copyright© Cynthia Cady Stanton, 2019

beautiful-clothes-cold-54200

Poem · Poetry

Storms

Rain on me,

get me wet!

Give me that helpful push with your

blustery force!

Wake me from slumber

with winds that push me forward.

Baptize me

once again –

help me remember

that I belong to you.

Remind me that storms are

necessary.

They come and they go.

Each one bringing something new

into my life.

Let me not brace against

or resist.

Get me wet.

Copyright© Cynthia Cady Stanton, 2018

rain on window

Poem · Poetry

Impending Storm

A cloud of geese fly

overhead and in circles

and it mirrors

the dis-ease inside of me

as I wait.

I know it is coming –

the discomfort and pain,

the lack of ease.

The impact.

The busyness of preparations

somehow comforts.

But the inside grip

tightens.

Some people enjoy

a storm.

Its drama enlivens.

I am learning to be

separate from it.

So I imagine

that I am the sky.

I expand to embrace

and observe…

the storm happens

but I am separate from it.

This way,

storms can be more

a wonder to behold

and I am not in them.

I am in

but not of

the weather.

I can be the sky.

Copyright @ Cynthia Cady Stanton, 2017

birds flocking in dark sky

Poem · Poetry

Winter Chill

As I crunch through

the remnants of the first snow fall,

careful to go slow

and not to slip –

As I feel the cold air

swallow me,

making me miserable inside –

the song of complaint

rises

raw and uncensored:

“I hate winter!”

Every ounce of my being

resists the cold.

Then a chuckle

rises within me

and passes over the

passionate resistance energy

consuming me.

I smile at my hubris

thinking I can resist weather

of all things.

And then I realize –

It is ALL weather.

Copyright@ Cynthia Cady Stanton, 2017