Month: October 2025

Autumn on Tiptoe

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Autumn is tiptoeing in
like a child peeking out from backstage,
wondering, Is it time yet?
Is it my turn?
She is halfway here, halfway hidden.
Most leaves are still on the trees,
still green, but tinted gold
as the billowy canopy thins
a drift of leaves here,
a handful tossed there,
skittering and scattering in the whispery breeze.
The Virginia creeper glows in the setting sun
like brilliant orange-red stained glass.
Seed heads in artsy shapes crown lanky stems—
mounds of prickles on coneflowers,
pagodas of basil,
drupes of berries gathering on the crape myrtle.
But the petunias are still happily blooming,
and the impatiens are being prettily patient.
The early-blooming clematis vine
had decided to bloom again
even as its spent blossoms long ago
turned to fuzzy-headed seed pods
fit for a page in a Dr. Seuss book.
Bright yellow marigolds sway like windflowers
atop thin, overlong stems.
They are always ready to replant themselves
from plump cupped, papery pods
brittle and bursting with seeds.
So hello, Autumn.
Welcome.
The stage is set, and it is indeed your turn,
so dance across, full and free.
And take your time before your final bow.
Make Winter wait.
-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 2025. All rights reserved.

 

When Life Calls You Back In Time

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Hello, fellow time traveler.
Where do you go in your thoughts,
in your heart
when life calls you back in time?
Skip past the sadnesses,
the frights, and the wounds.
Where is the glad,
the restful,
the peaceful place,
the day that light filled you,
the day of smiles and laughter,
the curious discovery,
the gasp of awe,
the place of purpose?
These are the pure gold,
the charms to collect,
to string together into a necklace
or a clutch of prayer beads.
Hold onto these, fellow time traveler.
Polish them with gratitude
until they gleam and glow,
for they will light the way
down the path ahead.
-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 2025. All rights reserved.

Autumn Sunrise

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I rose early on this chilly morning,
and the autumn sun rose late.
Perfect timing, our rising together.
Since we have crossed paths,
the sun and I,
I have paused (for she will not),
and I’m watching her paint the world.
Fiery and free,
ancient and newborn,
fresh and faithful,
this delicious, joy-filled,
silent laughter of first light
warms the world with color.
Morning’s smile
splashes the tops of the turning trees,
sparking their leaves
into flaming reds and yellows.
Liquid light trickles down tree trunks,
flows like a gentle incoming tide
across lawns and down streets,
streams through windows,
floods the floor,
leaves puddles of molten gold.
Dawn’s light is a gracious gift,
generous bright bounty of the universe,
the new day’s silent hum
whispering to the heart
with wordless wisdom,
Here, here,
here’s a new day for you.
Good,
good,
good
morning.
You’re awake,
our paths have crossed,
now it’s your turn
to paint the world with goodness,
with light.
It’s your turn
to step out and
shine!
-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 © Karyn Henley 2025. All rights reserved.

Tiny Green Dragons

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All summer, a line of tiny green dragons
has been slowly creeping
up the outer wall of my neighbor’s house.
Each dragon, from wing tip to wing tip,
is the width of my outspread hand
and is made of a collection of leaves.
Like a disciplined line of determined ants,
these small, leafy dragons
follow one after the other,
evenly spaced along a tightrope stem.
My mind traces their path
as if my fingers were drawing it—
the angles,
the curves,
the negative spaces,
the quiet climb,
the gentle stretch,
the touch of tendril to red brick
that heats in the sun
and chills in the cool night,
the cling that holds the vine tight
in wind and lashing rain.
A vine is persistently persistent,
tenaciously tenacious,
grasping at the next available surface,
in this case, iron bars of a spiral staircase.
The vine curls around the first bar,
the second,
the third,
follows its shape spiraling upward
to the second floor landing.
There it stops and celebrates this feat
by blooming into orange trumpets
all along the dragon-leaf path,
giving itself to butterflies
and hummingbirds
and me.
A gust of wind
and a scattering of leaves swirl down.
The vine simply shivers
and clings and blooms.
It will soon turn brown and brittle.
The little dragons will let go
and fly away with the wind.
I will witness this wonder,
keep a winter watch,
and wait for spring
when once again,
a line of tiny green dragons
will start their warm-weather journey
up the wall of my neighbor’s house.
-kh-

Nurture peace, cultivate kindness, an 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 © Karyn Henley 2025. All rights reserved.