Perching on my Roof

Posted by karynhenleyauthor

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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Steady and Soft, Damaging and Deadly

Posted by karynhenleyauthor

After weeks of drought,

the rains finally came,

steady and soft.

I sat back and listened to

the soft tap of droplets

showering the windowpane,

the white noise of water boiling

in the kettle,

the gentle creak

of the rocking chair,

whispery gusts of wind,

the hum of the fridge,

the purr of the cat,

the turn of a page,

the distant whir of a jet in flight,

fading into the sound of the rain,

the delicious,

life-giving

rain.

This is not

what my friend heard

in North Carolina,

for this same storm system

that brought me sweet,

life-giving rain

wore a wild mood

when it reached her

rushing in a raging torrent,

a damaging, deadly downpour.

In my back yard,

when the rain ended,

the renewed trees dripped,

sated and peaceful.

Birds warbled and chortled,

branch to branch,

tree to tree,

a clear, world-washed song.

When the rain ended

in my friend’s back yard,

trees lay uprooted,

muddy floods of river water

swirled and swallowed

tangled branches.

I have to believe that birds

still sang from the tip-top

of whatever withstood the storm—

peaked roofs,

stubbornly strong trees,

a post, a pole,

a precariously tilted sign.

May the birds always sing

their ancient wisdom,

their song of courage,

comfort,

and hope.

-kh-

Nurture peace, cultivate kindness, and carry the calm.

Nature of the week:

Shadow of the week:

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The In-Between Times

Posted by karynhenleyauthor

I woke to birdsong this morning,

a good-morning melody

welcoming the silver-gray light

weaving through the clouds and soft rain

of these in-between days

that bridge winter and spring

and seem so random—

today frosty, possible snow,

tomorrow warm, a hug of sunshine.

New blooms have appeared

on the neighbor’s hellebore,

Lenten roses right on time.

Purple crocuses have smiled open

under the magnolia,

a bit of yellow peeks from a drift of daffodils

under the hackberry,

all cheering me

in these between times.

And truly, we are always in between—

between starting and finishing,

between losing and finding,

between our last step and our next step.

Isn’t it the same with people as with nature?

There are those who bloom

in the in-between times,

those who are our crocuses,

our daffodils,

our Lenten roses,

whose mere presence is a sign of hope,

good cheer,

encouragement

in between the loss of what was

and the uncertainty of what will be,

those who ground us in the present moment

of the in-between.

Thank God for our crocuses,

our daffodils,

our Lenten roses.

Thank God for our in-between friends.

–kh–

Nurture peace, cultivate kindness, and carry the calm.

Nature of the week:

Shadow of the week:

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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:

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Could it Become a Symphony?

Posted by karynhenleyauthor

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:

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Morning’s Gift

Posted by karynhenleyauthor

The rising sun traces

outstretched elm branches,

kisses budding tips of topmost twigs

with a warm, bright white glow

like lit candles

honoring this new day.

Wrens and cardinals chip and chirp,

overjoyed with the spreading warmth of sunrise,

with the fresh gold-green fringe of hackberry,

butter yellow buds of forsythia,

delicate white dogwood,

show-off pink azaleas

and whispers of a gentle breeze.

I step outdoors to sit in the sun,

to breathe Spring,

to be witness to silent, stretching leaves,

to birdsong and bloom.

But they need no witness.

It is I who need this,

I who need to witness

their existence,

their persistence,

their extravagance.

It is I who need this hope

of a new day.

– kh –

Nurture peace, cultivate kindness, and carry the calm.

Nature of the week—lily of the valley:

Shadow of the Week—A windy downpour left a puddle on a plastic tablecloth and tossed leaves onto it. When the sun came out, the floating leaves cast this shadow:

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Bugs and Birdsong

Posted by karynhenleyauthor

Listen.

Listen past the noise

to softer sounds.

Wind, water,

bugs, birdsong,

a church bell, a distant train.

Listen

to your own deep breath

drifting in and out.

Listen as the sounds of peace

calm your soul.

– kh –

Linger: 365 Days of Peaceful Pauses

Nurture peace, cultivate kindness, and carry the calm.

Nature of the week:

Shadow of the Week:

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The Singing Bird

Posted by karynhenleyauthor

“If I keep a green bough in my heart, the singing bird will come.”

Chinese proverb

Nurture peace. Cultivate kindness. Carry the calm.

Nature of the week:

Shadow of the Week:

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Why a Bird Sings

Posted by karynhenleyauthor

“A bird does not sing because it has an answer.

It sings because it has a song.”

– Chinese proverb –

Poet and novelist Rainer Maria Rilke said, “Live the questions.”

No answers are necessary for your soul to sing.

Nourish peace, cultivate loving kindness, and carry the calm.

Nature of the week:

Shadow of the Week:

Carry the Calm

Karyn Henley

birdsong

Perching on my Roof

Steady and Soft, Damaging and Deadly

The Bell Tower

Could it Become a Symphony?

Morning’s Gift

Bugs and Birdsong

The Singing Bird

Why a Bird Sings