A rainy day,
drips tapping gently on windowpanes,
soft sounds soothe until
chimes ring out the hour
on the campus to the east.
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,
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
– kh –
Nurture peace, cultivate kindness, and carry the calm.
Nature of the week – a little visitor:
Shadow of the Week:
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Text and photos © 2023 Karyn Henley. All rights reserved.