One Raucous Love Song

 

When the crow calls,

my heart returns to Texas,

to the prairie where I grew up with

stubby mesquite trees,

prickly pear cactus,

crooked-limbed live oak,

swathes of yellow-green pastureland

rugged cattle,

a wide, wild sky holding

thunderheads miles high,

golden-orange-red sunsets

deepening into velvet-dark,

star studded night sky,

and wind,

always wind,

dry wind,

whistling through power lines,

whipping branches,

bowing grasses,

flapping skirts and shirts,

sweeping dust from here to

who-knows-where,

feathering the feathers of the crow

who is maybe related to

the one outside my open window

now carrying me back

hundreds of miles,

dozens of years

with one raucous

love-song of a

caw.

-kh-

Nurture peace, cultivate kindness, and carry the calm.

Nature of the week (look closely and you’ll see a ladybug):

Shadow of the week:

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Text and photos © 2024 Karyn Henley. All rights reserved.

A Private Nod

 

The poet’s words, written and flung

into the wildness of my day

became a signpost:

“This is as far as the light

Of my understanding

Has carried me…” she had written*

in an intimate moment of generosity

on the page,

a prompt from someone

I don’t even know,

a private nod,

a poetic nudge

to begin exactly there

and follow the trail where

it would take me;

so I wandered that way—

how far has the light

of my understanding

carried me?

To writing in this room with friends,

the sound of traffic

our rushing river,

the rug beneath us

our grassy meadow,

twinkle lights on steel rafters

the heavens above us,

the rustle of writing papers

a breeze sweeping leaves,

our universe a shelter,

our hearts hurt but

healing,

hopeful.

I close my eyes and see us all

in drifts of moonlight

making our way through stars,

out where peace flows,

for we are meditating.

This—yes, this

is as far as my understanding

has carried me,

and for now,

that is far enough.

-kh-

 

*from “Midlife” by Julie Cadwallader Shaub

Nurture peace, cultivate kindness, and carry the calm.

Nature of the week:

Shadow of the week:

If you want me to send these thoughts to your email each Sunday, simply sign up on the right.

Text and photos © 2024 Karyn Henley. All rights reserved.

Center Stage

 

For one bright moment

before the sun set,

its spotlight fell full on

three bunches of crape myrtle blooms,

dazzling them to a deep pink blush

as they hung like fancy chandeliers

on gently arced branches

high above the shadowed lawn.

For one bright moment

they took center stage

before the sun eased its beams higher

for its last brilliant gift of the day,

leaving the pink blooms fading into

the settling peace of twilight.

As my birthday came and went this week,

I saw myself in those frilly, full,

gathered blooms,

for it seems that all of life buds

and blossoms

and opens

into full bloom

for one bright moment

before the sun sets.

I am grateful to see,

in the settling twilight,

a beautiful peace.

-kh-

Nurture peace, cultivate kindness, and carry the calm.

 

Nature of the week:

Shadow of the week:

If you want me to send these thoughts to your email each Sunday, simply sign up on the right.

Text and photos © 2024 Karyn Henley. All rights reserved.

Making Waves

I think we send out waves—

don’t you?

Not the waggle of a hand

in greeting or going

but unseen waves rippling out

from us into the world.

Call them thoughts,

call them prayers,

call them hopes,

they roll out like a rhythmic tide,

heartbeats set adrift

through invisible currents

all around us to

ebb and flow,

weave and wander

around and between us,

waves of presence unseen,

unbounded

unlimited,

untamed.

Mine meet yours and mingle,

expand the dance.

May they be waves of

grace and goodness,

generosity and joy,

compassion and strength.

May we wash the weary world

with wonder.

-kh-

Nurture peace, cultivate kindness, and carry the calm.

Nature of the week:

Shadow of the week:

If you want me to send these thoughts to your email each Sunday, simply sign up on the right.

Text and photos © 2024 Karyn Henley. All rights reserved