Daydrift

Posted by karynhenleyauthor

Morning came like a gentle hug today,
sunrise shadowed by low clouds,
rain sprinkling window screens,
spattering the panes,
showering softly,
soothing my unsettled soul.
Morning came like a gentle hush,
a nudge to linger in the lull
between sleeping and waking,
to rest in the dimness of dawn,
to let this day drift in.
It’s been a while since we’ve had
this kind of rain,
a straight-down, soak-the-roots rain.
So I take my time,
drift into wakefulness,
drift into the kitchen for coffee,
drift into my easy chair,
sip from my steaming cup,
and watch a robin on the porch rail
letting the rain roll off his back.
Two squirrels sit atop the swingset,
their tails curved over their backs
like umbrellas.
A cardinal with water-darkened feathers
breakfasts from the feeder.
A chipmunk darts in and out
among a maze of flowerpots.
Black-eyed Susans turn fresh faces to the sky,
petals and leaves outstretched
as if saying, “Welcome, friend rain.
So good to see you.”
The morning wraps its comfort
around my cares
and cradles my concerns
so I can carry them quietly, calmly.
Welcome, friend rain.
So good to see you.
-kh-

Nurture peace, cultivate kindness, and carry the calm.

Nature of the week:

Shadow of the week:

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Twenty-seven Degrees

Posted by karynhenleyauthor

Twenty-seven degrees.
A cardinal is caroling,
bright as a holiday ornament
in the bare branches of the elm tree.
Robins gather in a circle
around the heated birdbath.
I bundle up to go to the grocery store.
I feel rather chipmunkish in my habits,
scurrying out to get food,
hurrying home to halfway hibernate.
I have bought yeast
and flour and eggs and butter.
I have all the cozy ingredients
to bake bread.
And I do.
Fresh baked bread is comfort food,
gives the air a buttery warm smell.
I hold my cold hands
over the open oven door
where the rising heat drifts up and out
like the breath of a hot summer breeze.
Outside, the chilly joy of twenty-seven degrees.
Inside, the warm joy of an open oven door.
-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.

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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