“We make many attempts to establish the outer world as a safe haven . . . instead of finding a safe haven within and bringing that to the outer world.” – Henri Nouwen
Nurture peace, cultivate kindness, and carry the calm.
Nature of the week:
Shadow of the Week:
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Text and photos © 2023 Karyn Henley. All rights reserved.
“When peace like a river attendeth my way,
when sorrows like sea billows roll,
whatever my lot, thou hast taught me to say,
It is well; it is well with my soul.”*
This hymn was softly playing on my sister’s phone when my dad took his final breath last week. My sisters and I were holding his thin hands, listening beyond the music to his ragged breathing. We had told him a few minutes earlier not to worry, that we would be all right. I said, “We’ll be here, Daddy. We’ll walk with you as far as we can.” And we did. As he let go and stopped struggling to breathe, a deep peace carried all of us, and as the last phrase of the hymn drifted across us, he drifted away. “It is well; it is well with my soul.”
May peace, deep and buoyant as a gentle, restful river carry you through this day and all the days to come and assure you that truly, it is well.
Nurture peace, cultivate kindness, and carry the calm.
Nature of the week:
Shadow of the Week:
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*Written by Horatio G. Spafford, public domain
Text and photos © 2023 Karyn Henley. All rights reserved.
In the branches above me,
a bird—cardinal? wren?
I’m not expert enough to say—
sings a lilting tune
and is echoed by a distant bird,
an early morning call and response.
I imagine this network of singers,
this connection between birds
who share the same song,
who hear each other
and answer
above the rush of traffic,
the wind through the trees,
the hum of the jet crossing overhead.
I imagine this stream of song,
stretching like a strand of gossamer,
loose and floating but strong,
crossing the city,
one bird to another.
Could it make its way
around the world?
Could it become a symphony?
I imagine that it does.
I imagine, too, those of us
who share the same song of hope,
who protect deep peace in our hearts,
who honor loving kindness for all,
who pray for peace to blanket the world
but fear that our voices simply sound
like the thin chirps of distant birds.
Still, our gossamer thread is strong.
Does my voice echo yours, I wonder,
or is it the other way around?
As with birds,
who begins the song
and who carries it on
is of no consequence.
What matters is the song
making its wise way through the world
beyond the ruckus of resentment,
above the bite of arrogance.
What matters is that we never stop spreading
the possibility of peace.
Sing on, friends.
Listen to the distant voices
and the near ones,
the clarion carriers
of the call of peace.
Catch that song,
weave it into your voice,
echo its hope,
for somewhere a listening ear waits
to hear that melody,
to send it on
and on
across the world.
– 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 © 2023 Karyn Henley. All rights reserved.
A steady swish and swash
whispers from the dishwasher.
The tide of soap and water
swiftly ebbs and flows
with white noise,
the song of all-is-done,
all-is-well,
no more urgency of
clattering silverware,
clinking dishes,
stirring peppers and potatoes,
cracking eggs,
buttering,
salting,
tasting,
serving,
clearing.
All is done for the day.
I sit by lamplight,
cat in my lap,
book open to the next chapter
to read,
to rest,
to doze to the song of the sea
in a box
and imagine that I’m at the ocean,
waves shushing me,
wind feathering my hair,
my toes in the sand,
leaving footprints as I stroll
along the shore.
This evening,
listening to the swashing song
of day-is-done,
I stroll the shore of my thoughts.
Perhaps even here,
I will leave footprints.
– 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 © 2023 Karyn Henley. All rights reserved.
There is something soft and friendly
about the night,
a slowing,
settling,
deep drift
that creeps silently over the world
as the light folds her brightly colored fan
and fades.
Evening shadows gently wash over
grasses and gardens,
chipmunks and squirrels,
bugs and birds.
Darkness rises to the rooftops,
shoulders over the treetops
until all rests under a dome of darkness
where stars sail and the moon smiles
and the night breeze dances.
When I was young,
I was taught about heaven.
“There is no night there,” we sang,
which saddened me for years.
No night?
No beautiful, calming, restful night?
No chirp of crickets?
No whirr of night bugs?
No lovely call of a lone owl?
I am not convinced about heaven,
but I know the night.
I love the night.
There is something soft and friendly
about the night.
-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 © 2023 Karyn Henley. All rights reserved.
The poem claimed that life was the color of
“almost pale white robin’s green…”*
I shook my head,
for I know that the color of life
is blue—
blue like the sky,
blue like the sea,
blue for peace that is meant to be,
blue for cool breath,
blue for color-shifting twilight.
its blue-green glow deepening
to velvet blue
as night falls.
I feel the color of life as blue—
the blue-violet of deep thought,
the sharp-edged gray blue of grief,
the airy, floating blue of hope.
Yes. The color of life is blue—
thirst quenching,
soul resting,
heart holding,
dream painting,
wild-and-tame,
up-and-down,
surge-and-rest,
swimming,
swirling,
settling,
soothing
blue.
I see you shaking your head.
What color is life
to you?
– kh –
* from “Eggshell” by Gerald Stern
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 © 2023 Karyn Henley. All rights reserved.
Lean close to summer blooms—
peek into petunias,
dive deep into daylilies,
stare boldly at black-eyed Susans,
push past flashy petals
into the center,
the inner sanctum,
anthers and stamen,
tiny flying flags
or miniature stars
or prickly pillows
dusty with pollen,
maybe moist with the season’s
sweet dew.
This is what the bee must see
as he follows the path
of a petal’s dark veins
to settle headfirst,
to nestle inside
for a moment
or two.
The butterfly flicks
her curling, unfurling,
thread-thin tongue
to taste this splendor.
The ant tiptoes in,
humble on this holy ground,
this extravagant gift.
It’s our gift too
for the mere price
of a moment’s noticing.
Peek in.
Dive deep.
Lean close.
Stare boldly.
See what the bee sees.
– 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 © 2023 Karyn Henley. All rights reserved.
I will look at cliffs and clouds
with quiet eyes,
watch the wind blow down the grass,
and the grass rise.
Wishing you a calm, peaceful holiday weekend.
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 © 2023 Karyn Henley. All rights reserved.
You’re a topsy-turvy,
upside-down eater,
a sleek seeker of seeds,
my little nuthatch friend.
You cling tail up
to the green metal mesh
and poke around
for a sunflower seed,
but you find none
because I failed to fill the feeder.
By the time I bring my bag of seeds,
you have flown.
I unhook your empty pantry and
pour in a waterfall of seeds.
Rushing,
tumbling
sunflower grains,
shiny dark
speckled with white,
they pile up,
a feast for the feathered.
Before I can rehang the feeder,
you dash in
with a flash of wings,
and I freeze.
The feeder dangles from my fingers.
For a moment, you perch,
topsy-turvy, upside-down,
then snatch a snack
and dart away,
wings waving.
Sleek little beak-down clown,
you are brave to come so close.
Did you think I was a flower?
I’m wearing blossom pink—
not my favorite color,
but maybe yours?
Whatever you thought,
your presence was a compliment.
You made my heart glad,
and I thank you.
– 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 © 2023 Karyn Henley. All rights reserved.
A tiny bubble
at the edge of my coffee
reflects my kitchen windows
in miniature,
a visual echo of daylight drifting in
on a cool, rainy day,
a calm take-your-time afternoon.
Peace comes in the wink of a bubble
at the edge
of my coffee
at the edge
of my thoughts
at the edge
of my hopes for the day.
– 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 © 2023 Karyn Henley. All rights reserved.