Poem · Poetry · Uncategorized

The Places Where I Recognize Myself

There are moments when

I catch glimpses myself –

where I picture the kind of woman

I am becoming though

she sometimes feels far away.

I will be in a yoga class and

feel in my body a sense of home on the mat.

“Yes, here,” will be whispered into my heart.

I will stay even if uncomfortable.

I may be holding the hand of another

while they are dying and

listening to their softening voice

while witnessing their growing transparency.

I offer my humanity and breath while I take them in.

I stay.

Yes, here.

Once I was at the beach walking.

The sea spoke to me.

“You belong. Come here often. No need to call ahead.”

I found my home in the world

while listening to the music of the surf.

Now I make time for my toes to be cradled by sand.

My heart, soothed by sea songs 

in the tempo of wholeness and belonging.

I might be peeling carrots and

learning to cook tofu.

I have learned the value of green things.

“This is how to nourish. Eat these. Set this table.”

My body thanks me.

In the neighborhood, I walk 

in the early morning by myself,

saying hello to the trees and bunnies.

It is an active solitude 

where I converse with God. 

Seeking guidance for my many steps,

I maintain my strength of body.

This is how I move forward into a new day.

Yes, this is me.

Then the words…

They call to me.

We are friends most of the time.

Metaphors and beauty, insights –

beckon me to the page.

Another tether to my soul formed.

Writing is an intimate action which

enables me, lifts me, soothes me.

Inspiration has become a cherished friend.

Absolutely. This is me.

I am acquainted with grief and pain.

My heart has been broken many times.

My body has failed me.

I have endured,

grown.

My wounded places have

transformed into fertile places.

I cultivate this inner garden of earned wisdom

by extending myself to others who similarly suffer,

trip, and find themselves on holy ground.

Yes. Me.

And finally, I can envision her…

a graceful, beautiful and wise woman

with silky silver hair and a sparkle in her eyes.

She is wrinkled in some places –

Soft in others.

This soul has a glow about her 

which lights up a room with love and grace.

She is my north star.

Each day I make my way to her.

Moment by moment she is created

through my open present heart

and daily choices.

I allow her to emerge.

Copyright@Cynthia Cady Stanton, July 2022

Photo by Vlada Karpovich on Pexels.com

Uncategorized

In The Space of Silence

When I remember to take a breath,

to stop,

to get quiet,

it’s as if my eyes automatically open more.

I can see the details…

the robins digging for worms,

the leaves fluttering in the breeze,

the expression lines deepening

on the face of my beloved.

It is the quiet

that wakes me up.

With no noise to distract me,

I can also find the words.

Somehow the container of my heart

has permission to open,

spilling out with the cry of prayer

and the lyrics of grace.

I hear my own speech, and

in that listening,

I realize

I have become quiet enough

to be held by it all.

All this…

in the space of silence –

this place I call 

my home.

Copyright@CynthiaCady Stanton.com

Uncategorized

A Deeper Listening

As a baby poet,

and a lover of writing,

the words that arrive

seemed to flow effortlessly

for a time.

When I dared to take those

first steps

that one day in a coffee shop,

and my love – after reading the results –

and to my surprise –

proclaimed me a poet,

I blossomed so fully

and beautifully

into joy and purpose.

I shined from the inside out,

blessed by having been seen.

This is what happens

when one is in the flow,

the wellsprings of artful expression.

But lately,

I find myself in the driest season of all.

This dehydration and loss of the words

has begun to hurt.

I feel it in the tightness of my voice –

a constipation in manifestation…

of engagement in my gifts.

So where did those waters of life go?

There is still a heart in me

that longs to speak.

There is still a soul

that seeks to inspire.

There is still a desire

to connect artfully

and with meaningful impact –

not out of a need for praise,

but of a soul-drive to be helpful –

to connect to our common humanity.

But here I am.

Thirsty for the words

and waiting to be quenched

by the flow

which glows through me.

It has been a season

of healing and grief for me.

There has been a deep dive

into all the embodied pain

I have been carrying –

lugging around through life

unwittingly.

The drag of it all

has finally caught up with me.

I have been brought to my knees

to find a profound humility.

Now that I am getting back on my feet again,

and on sacred ground,

feeling healed and graced

with a deeper listening to life,

I sense the presence of inspiration again.

She whispers softly,

but with an urgency

that deepens my attention.

So the words are starting to spring forth gently.

I know I must share them –

for I know they are needed

for the many who thirst longingly

just like me.

My heart begins to pour them out

as I enter the flow

once again.

Copyright@cynthiacadystanton.com, Jan. 2022

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com
Poem · Poetry · Uncategorized

The Remedy

 

When in isolation,

and the feeling of it overwhelms,

remember the love within you.

Look to your heart and

the fullness there, the fullness that

swells with your sweet attention to it.

You are not alone.

You are the branch which stretches and shades from

 every tree you have ever sat under.

You are the sea spray that has kissed your face

from every stroll on the beach.

You are the joy of your beloved pet who

always blesses you with pure affection.

You are the song that the morning bird sings.

You are even the touch of every hand held and 

every embrace shared.

Every heart contains these wonders

for they have been memorized within

its secret and divine chambers.

Therefore, your heart is the keeper

and she waits for you.

Learning to trust her

allows you to relax into your life

and glow as designed to do so

no matter what is happening outside of you.

Those who know this, know how

to live from the inside.

They know how to touch God.

It is that simple. 

The Presence lives in you, so

you are not alone.

Copyright© Cynthia Cady Stanton, April 2020, During the Covid 19 Pandemic

I am as sure as I live that nothing is so near to me as God. God is nearer to me than I am to myself; my existence depends on the nearness and presence of God. – Meister Eckhart

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Poem · Poetry · Uncategorized

First Draft

 

This is not a good poem.

I can’t seem to find my voice –

It is missing among the tangle

in my heart.

I keep digging in the bramble

and coming up empty.

I invite her back

and tell her I miss her soothing tones

which lift and heal.

I miss her guidance.

I know this is an important time –

a time when the losses are dramatic and scary

and a deeper knowing 

is required. 

I have been preparing for this moment

as have you.

Life has brought us here together.

We have certainly hit the brambles before.

And we have made it through…

But this time I find myself speechless.

The brambles are thick and unrelenting,

paralyzing expression.

It seems a moment

when words cannot dare to speak

what the heart cannot sort 

or feel.

It is a time

to nurture the silence.

It needs space right now. 

The words can rest

until they know what to say.

Copyright© Cynthia Cady Stanton, April 10, 2020

Covid 19 Pandemic

 

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Poem · Poetry

A Teacher in the Midst

 

He sits in my lap

purring away, as is his normal routine.

We greet the morning together

this way

every day.

Me with my coffee and laptop,

him with an open attentiveness.

Sure, the creature needs have been met –

he has had his breakfast –

and I already noted my coffee…

But once nurtured and fed,

my kitty always presents himself to me

to demonstrate his gratitude.

There is no other agenda –

just togetherness and 

presence embraced.

I celebrate this simplicity 

and his example.

He is regal in his ability to just be.

It is a treasure to behold.

I take a moment to bow to the Master

and give thanks for his furry presence

freely given.

Namaste, dear creature.

I can see you.

Copyright© Cynthia Cady Stanton, 2019

Poem · Poetry · Uncategorized

The Time to Blossom

 

There is an urgency within

which pulls at my skin,

leading me forth

into the mysterious newness ahead.

I’ve been germinating.

The rest allowed has given

the necessary space and freedom

to review the landscapes –

and offer each

to be placed into the heart of God.

Sure, there are mixed feelings attached.

But each place travelled

has provided the necessary nutrition

for the current unfolding.

I have found that

the more I let go and allow for

a larger view of things,

the more freedom there is

for my unique soul

to be connected to 

God and my true belonging.

This lightens –

and allows for the reach up and out.

There really are no problems!

It is counter-intuitive, in a way –

but the more I let go,

the more I can be present for others

and actually be helpful –

be present.

So, I choose to be here –

as rocky as the ground can be…

I choose joy.

I choose love.

I live gratefully.

And when the memory of this lapses,

I forgive the pull of distraction,

and begin again.  

We can always start over.

This is the beauty of 

learning self-transformation.

God is the focus.

Not me.

There is always hope

and healing is here.

Copyright© Cynthia Cady Stanton, 2019

 

The presence of God needs to fill the space where you seem to be for healing to happen.

Dr. Thomas Hora

 

Ask yourself, who would I be if there were no problem?

-Tara Brach

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Poem · Poetry · Uncategorized

Like Me

 

Like me,

I bet you don’t like to be

inconvenienced by illness or stress.

 

Like me,

you probably aim to control and manage

everything in front of you.

 

Like me,

sadness is not an option

you would choose.

 

Like me,

your busyness gets in the way

of your experience of peace and

even love.

 

Like me,

your striving and perfectionism

puts you in a box

which limits spontaneity and joy.

 

Like me,

your thoughts drive you

and mostly go unnoticed.

 

But also like me,

you are growing in awareness.

 

Like me,

you don’t give up.

 

Like me,

laughter and health

bubble forth, anyway.

 

Like me,

you are a Velveteen Rabbit,

and you are being loved

into being made more real.

 

Like me,

you are learning the 

gift of surrender.

 

Like me,

grace finds you.

 

Like me,

you are grateful for it all.

 

In peace,

my spirit bows to your spirit.

We are one.

And you are like me.

 

Copyright© Cynthia Cady Stanton, 2019

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Poem · Poetry · Uncategorized

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

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