Month: November 2024

Peace, They Insist

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A trio of peace lilies stands tall
at my back window.
Raindrop-shaped upper leaves
curve over pebbled flower stalks
like hands gently cupping a candle
to protect it from a draft.
I imagine these upper leaves
shielding these symbols of peace
from today’s blast of bad news,
war and destruction,
hunger and hurt,
clenched fists, bared teeth,
faces distorted with anger.
How can these flowers stand quietly
proclaiming peace, peace, peace
in such a time of tension?
And yet they do, and they have.
Year after year,
decade after decade,
in calm, in turbulence,
peace lilies have stood tall in our world.
Today’s sunlight drifts in,
glows through dark lower leaves
and light upper leaves
translucent as stained-glass windows.
Peace, the lilies insist,
sharing their ancient wisdom,
and I see that peace is many-layered.
I cannot wave a wand and win world peace.
I cannot change minds and hearts
of those who hold tight to hatred.
I cannot control the uncontrollable.
But the inner layer of peace
is heart deep.
I can cup my own flame,
maybe yours too.
Maybe we can shield each other
from the cutting wind.
Maybe we can be translucent,
let the light glow through us.
Maybe we can stand tall for peace.
It’s said that often,
in the wild,
peace lilies grow in colonies.
I will stand alone if I have to,
but I believe we are a colony.
I am looking beyond my back window.
I’m aiming to grow
and glow
peace
in the wild.
-kh-

Nurture peace, cultivate kindness, and carry the calm.

Nature of the week:


Shadow of the week:

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

The Joy in Waiting

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My backyard neighbor is building a house
at the back corner of his yard.
It’s smaller than an apartment,
larger than a tool shed.
He climbs, bends,
measures, hammers.
Slowly it’s taking shape,
walls framed,
roof beams pitched just so,
a glass door on the far side,
windows all around,
lots of windows.
Is it a greenhouse?
A woodworking shop?
An office for himself
or his wife?
Maybe in his retirement,
he has taken up painting
or sculpting.
Maybe this is his studio.
I could ask,
but I think the joy will be in waiting,
wondering,
seeing how it turns out.
I once told a watercolor teacher
that I was disappointed in my painting
because it hadn’t turned out
the way I had envisioned.
She said, “If it turned out
the way you thought it would,
what’s the point?”
Ah.
The point is in the process,
in the trying,
in the discovery.
Still, I know my neighbor has a plan,
and I hope what he’s building
will turn out the way he wants.
As for me,
I’ll wait and see.

-kh-

Nurture peace, cultivate kindness, and carry the calm.

Nature of the week:

Shadow of the week:

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

Merry, Gold, and Peppery Sweet

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It’s warm for mid-November.
The lacework branches of
elm, poplar, and hackberry
still hold half their leaves,
and marigolds still bloom in the pot
beside my back door.
A bee visits the merry, gold,
peppery-sweet blossoms,
forages in the rich center of each.
Years ago, the entire front garden
of a house I lived in
was planted in marigolds.
On the sidewalk bordering the garden,
my first child took his first steps.
So, dear marigold,
you are merry,
you are golden,
and you may be a bee’s lunch,
but you’ll always mean first steps to me.
You will always make me smile.

– kh –

 

Nurture peace, cultivate kindness, and carry the calm

Nature of the week:

Shadow of the week:

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© 2024 Karyn Henley, all rights reserved.

I Imagined Fog Drifting In

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Steep narrow stairs spiraled up

past a small kitchen and parlor,

past even smaller bedrooms

on the upper floors.

At the top of the lighthouse,

I stepped out onto a walkway

circling the towering lens.

Fresh breeze,

choppy waves,

a clear sky all the way

from hazardous coast to horizon.

I imagined fog drifting in,

wild waves crashing,

night falling.

I imagined sailors

squinting through a foggy night,

cresting a wave,

sliding into a trough,

land somewhere near–

but where?

Then a glint of light.

It comes again.

Here I am,

the lighthouse signals,

through the fog,

in the night,

I am standing,

I am shining,

I am here,

and you will find your way.

If you are sailing rough seas,

watch for lighthouses.

They are there.

If you are on solid ground,

keep standing,

keep shining,

take care of your flame,

for someone is squinting,

watching and waiting

for glimmers of hope

in the fog.

-kh-

 

Nurture peace, cultivate kindness, and carry the calm.

Nature of the week:

Shadow of the week:

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

Perching on my Roof

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I have a mockingbird—

for how long, I don’t know;

he is free to come and go

but, for now, perches on my roof

outside my window

running through his repertoire

in all the bird-languages,

as if he has decided one song

is not enough to express

his ecstatic heart,

so he weaves tunes end to end,

high and low,

lilting and liquid,

warbled and chirped,

a celebration of sound

dancing through my open window,

waking me to this one day.

Tomorrow, he may be on another roof,

regaling no one in particular,

for he needs no audience,

he would sing at the top of his little lungs

even if no one was listening.

But today, I am listening,

pausing in the early stillness

to hear this songster

dressed in stately gray,

serenading my morning

with flowing melodies

flung freely into the breeze.

Whatever the day may bring,

my mockingbird has already

sung the sweetness into my world.

-kh-

 

Nurture peace, cultivate kindness, and carry the calm.

Nature of the week – my azaleas are blooming again:

Shadow of the week:

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