A Game of War I Don’t Want to Play

Posted by karynhenleyauthor

He’s being cranky again, my young grandson,

corralling me into a game of war

I do not want to play,

the swingset the villain’s lair.

I don’t like war, I tell him.

I don’t like fighting.

I like peace.

He says, “First you fight the monsters,

and then you go to your place of peace.”

I look up,

up to the treetops,

take a deep breath.

I don’t tell him that I have some experience

in fighting monsters who were not quite

as imaginary as his.

Or were they?

I also don’t tell him

that I don’t always win.

The treetops sway,

the breeze whispers peace.

I look back at my grandson.

“Okay,” I say.

“I will fight your monsters.”

And my heart breaks a little.

Because I know that I will.

-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.

The Sacrament of Waking

Posted by karynhenleyauthor

In the drift of easing from night dreams

into the gift of a new dawn,

there exists a pause,

a delicious time,

a handful of moments,

the day reborn in peace.

This handful of half-waking minutes

is a carrier,

a courier,

an envoy of the sacred—

a sacrament.

In the fraying fog of waking,

I feel my fragile frame,

my trusting weight generously held,

graciously cradled,

between blanket and bed,

between heaven and earth.

This moment is a silver bowl

holding silent prayers

measured in heartbeats,

whispered in slow, easy breaths.

In a handful of half-awake minutes,

time touches eternity.

– 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.

The Dance of the Season

Posted by karynhenleyauthor

It’s the dance of the season,

the frolic of Fall.

Leaves

drift

down.

Pollen freckles the birdbath,

tickles my nose—

a snappy breeze,

an autumn sneeze.

Branches bow,

a leaf breaks loose.

Then another.

And another.

Lifted and swirled,

tossed and twirled,

they join the drift,

the sink and lift on

cool currents of air

that stir them around

and down

to the ground

to scuffle and settle.

All the while, the breeze whispers to leaves

still clinging to branches,

“Come and dance.

Come and dance.”

And they do,

and they will

until branches are bare

and a chill stirs the air.

Then Fall flicks her skirts

and flirts with Winter

who knows this dance well.

She’ll take the lead

flinging flakes of frost

in a waltz with the wind.

But that’s weeks away.

For today, it’s a breeze

and a sneeze

and a timid drift

of golden leaves.

– kh –

Nurture peace, cultivate kindness, and carry the calm.

Nature of the week—moonrise:

Shadow of the Week:

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

The Peace of Baking Bread

Posted by karynhenleyauthor

Rich, yeasty, cozy, all-embracing,

the scent of fresh-baked bread

warms the kitchen,

drifts upstairs,

flows through the house,

seeps out open windows,

mingles with cool autumn air,

hitches a ride on the breeze,

while indoors, its warm hug

settles me.

I have worked for this moment,

measured flour, salt, sugar,

added yeast and scalding water,

kneaded plump dough

four minutes per loaf (I bake two),

press and fold,

a hefty eight-minute workout

for arms and hands and fingers.

Then comes the magic.

The dough rises, doubles in size

and bakes golden brown,

fresh and fragrant.

All is well with a loaf of bread

just out of the oven.

What’s better than its yeast-warm smell—

except for a bit of butter

on that first yummy bite.

– 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.

The Bell Tower

Posted by karynhenleyauthor

A rainy day,

silver showers,

drips tapping gently on windowpanes,

soft sounds soothe until

chimes ring out the hour

on the campus to the east.

Those chimes.

What a nuisance they were twenty years ago

when the bell tower was built,

ringing every quarter hour—really?

Apparently, measuring time

in fifteen minute intervals

is important. To someone.

I prefer a less metered flow of hours.

Then, sometime in those twenty years,

it happened:

The chimes marking time

faded into the soundtrack of my day.

Now when I notice them,

I wonder—what else has faded?

In the unbounded, wide-ranging time of my mind,

what else ebbs into the background?

The chimes bring me back to the present moment,

to the chorus of birdsong,

the tick of an old clock,

the tink of ice in a glass,

the chip of a chipmunk,

the buzz of insects tucked in the shadows of bushes,

the breeze whispering, “Come back.

Come back to this place.

Come back to this time.

Come back to the chimes.”

They’re ringing again now.

Through silver showers,

a quarter hour

has come

and gone.

– kh –

Nurture peace, cultivate kindness, and carry the calm.

Nature of the week – a little visitor:

Shadow of the Week:

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

Wishing I Could Fly

Posted by karynhenleyauthor

A V of geese, calling out,

crossed the cloud-rippled sky,

and I, below, watched them go,

wishing I could fly.

I’d go west too but visit

every garden on the way

to where the sunset colors glow

and twilight cools the day.

But this is now and that is dream.

I’ve been west, and I know

that here is where life hums to me;

it’s where my gardens grow.

The hug-warm sun sets here as well

and paints the twilight sky.

Still, I look up and fill with dreams

when flocks of geese fly by.

– 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.

Joy Resting

Posted by karynhenleyauthor

“Peace is joy at rest, and joy is peace on its feet.”

– Anne Lamott, quoting her pastor Veronica –

May your joy find rest and may your peace find its feet. Nurture it, cultivate loving kindness, and carry the calm.

Nature of the week – Super Moon, Blue Moon:

Shadow of the Week:

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

Looking at Green

Posted by karynhenleyauthor

“Go outside,”

my friend’s therapist said.

“Go outside and look at the green.”

The used heart,

the abused heart,

the wounded soul

turns inward with pain,

tunnels in,

builds a protective shell,

like a snail, hides inside.

Colors, once bright and bold,

become muted,

care full,

shrinking into shadows,

swept into shards—

but there,

still there.

“Go outside.

Go outside and look at

all the colors of green.”

My friend did.

She opened the door.

Green met her there,

and she saw that green

was not just green

but elegant emerald,

warm olive,

deep forest,

soft sage,

splashy sea green,

tart apple green,

sunlit spring green,

lime,

moss,

pine,

branching out,

stretching up,

dancing in the wind,

basking on a rock,

climbing a fence,

life giving life,

simply being,

full and changing

one day at a time,

brightening,

fading,

from one green to another,

simple,

restful,

growing,

hopeful.

My friend laughs now with delight

at being precisely who she is.

She is evergreen.

“Go outside and

look at the

green.”

– 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.

Slipped Between the Pages

Posted by karynhenleyauthor

I grabbed the nearest piece of paper,

slipped it between pages-read and not-read in

wife/daughter/self by Beth Kephart, a favorite writer.

I shoved the book into my carry-on

and dashed out to catch a flight to Texas

to visit my dad, rich in years at 95 and,

to his consternation, confined to a wheelchair.

By the time I arrived, he was,

to his consternation, confined to his bed

and being fed

by caregivers.

A day went by,

two,

three,

until the morning he couldn’t eat

and hardly roused from sleep.

“Have you ever heard a death rattle?”

a caregiver asked.

I had not—

until that day,

that day he raised his arms,

reached for the sky,

opened his eyes,

gazed beyond the ceiling,

and then left us

for something more.

Days later, standby on a flight home,

I took the last seat on the plane

and slipped my paper boarding pass,

between the same pages of the same book.

I had not read any farther,

did not read on the flight,

but found comfort holding wife/daughter/self.

A week later, by the light of early evening,

I settled in to read,

my place marked by two slips of paper.

The first was a card from a bouquet

from one of my sons:

“Happy Mother’s Day! We love you.”

The other was the boarding pass

that meant leaving my father

for the last time.

As the light dimmed, there I sat,

holding two cards, one book, and me.

I had slipped between the pages of life,

somewhere between parents and children,

closing one chapter,

turning the page to another,

and hoping for a happy ending.

– 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.

Silenced by the Sea in the Wind

Posted by karynhenleyauthor

On a windy day,

if I close my eyes and open my ears,

I live beside the sea,

though this sea is only waves of wind

surging and ebbing,

a rolling surf of air

swishing through pine needles,

washing over elm leaves,

splashing the fronds of bamboo.

It’s the nature of Nature

to echo herself,

the sea in the wind and the wind in the sea.

Or a bird that chirps like a yipping dog

(or perhaps it’s the dog who yips like the bird).

A leaf that echoes the shape of wings,

wings that echo the shape of feathers,

feathers that echo the shape of feelers

on a fancy, flamboyant moth.

Leaves that echo the scent of lemon

or pepper

or cat pee.

But it’s the sea in the sound of the wind

that silences me,

sparks my dreams,

carries me to distant shores,

to time outside of time.

I suspect that this present moment

is itself an echo

of eternity.

– 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.

Carry the Calm

Karyn Henley

inspirational

A Game of War I Don’t Want to Play

The Sacrament of Waking

The Dance of the Season

The Peace of Baking Bread

The Bell Tower

Wishing I Could Fly

Joy Resting

Looking at Green

Slipped Between the Pages

Silenced by the Sea in the Wind