Poetry and other creations by Stan Stewart. Sometimes, it’s just the poem. Sometimes, it’s the story behind the creation.
Orbiting around The center of my World — which seems To me to be neither Sun nor other Solar core — I am propelled Without course. Just this spinning That seems to be Ever taking me back To the same place I’ve been. And yet, in the Midst of this Getting-nowhere, I find myself moved […]
Listening to the drip, drip, drip Of a day of thaw Is a great reminder: I want to miss neither The individual drop Nor the deluge. Both have their own Beautiful part in the Flood. Each is complete In itself. Both are beautiful. I easily become Transfixed on The drop. It holds so much Mystery
One thing counts: It may be love, It may be compassion, It may be delight, Or it may be beauty, But one thing counts. I awake to the chill of Morning and know that This is not a day to be Wasted or even Taken for granted. For to make even one Thing count, I
“Ev’rything’s getting fixed.” What this means to me Is that though there’s Plenty that’s broken – Ranging from the practical To the internal to the Relational – It’s all in motion Towards wholeness. Being splintered apart is Painful. Being brought together Is healing. I have known enough of Being broken apart. Let this day and
(give the heartspace) Given its opening And closing, This heart is less A witness to The outside world And more a testament To its own inner Habits and occasional Hermitages. Not too priestly though Is its reckoning. It is more of an Artist: Full of itself at times And crushed by Its own weightiness At
Ka-thump! It sounds repeatedly. This heart may be tired, But it is not done. ~ by Stan Stewart Copyright © 2011, 2016 by muz4now, inc. All Rights Reserved.
Beauty may be in the Eyes of the beholder. Beauty is certainly in the Heart of the one who sees it. ~ by Stan Stewart Copyright © 2011, 2016 by muz4now, inc. All Rights Reserved.
As the moment of wonder Leads me into its myriad Of fears and inspirations I begin — however tentatively — To ponder the mere shadow Of substance that I can offer With my longings and loves. Then again, I hold sacred The power of “the one” When it is someone else. Why not hold it
Tender are the mercies We must bring to Listening when the Telling is tender, too. ~ by Stan Stewart Copyright © 2011, 2016 by muz4now, inc. All Rights Reserved.
Do hearts open and Close like the yapping Mouths of adults who Are self-absorbed with Their own mundanities? Or is the heart’s opening Like the bloom of a flower — More of a once-and-for-all Or at least until some wise Child beholds its beauty And presses it (folded Carefully between pages In what is to
