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:

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

The Ebb and Flow of Evensong

Posted by karynhenleyauthor

The sizzling heat of late summer days
seems to slow the flow of time
to a sultry slog.
The sun sets red and gold,
making way for a cooler time of day—
well, technically, a degree or two lower,
but can we truly call it cooler?
Twilight radiates with leftover heat,
and it’s too hot to open the windows.
Even a breeze through the screen
blows hot air.
My windows-open,
listen-to-nature heart
sighs at this season
sealed behind double panes of glass.
But I discover that if I’m quiet and still,
I can hear beyond closed windows.
Night bugs are beginning
their ebb and flow of evensong,
joined by squeaky yips from a chipmunk
somewhere among the trees,
which are now only
bulky, billowy silhouettes
with scalloped and fringed edges
against the rich blue-violet sky.
A bird adds to the chorus with chirps
that sound like a repeated question
asking the chipmunk, What? What?
I think I know the answer to what?
My cat is outdoors,
so the chipmunk’s yip is no doubt
a danger signal to its family and friends
as well as a warning to the cat.
As darkness deepens
and swallows the silhouettes,
my cat comes inside.
Chips and chirps slow,
taper to a stop,
leaving evensong to the insects.
This is a choir you can hear
even though windows are closed.
But I suspect that the heart
must be open.
-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.

What the Chipmunk Told Me

Posted by karynhenleyauthor

“Hello, chipmunk,” I said.

The chipmunk blinked,

her cheeks full.

Then she nodded.

“Mmmph.”

And scampered away.

I sat back,

watched her go.

I think she lives

near the neighbor’s drainpipe,

where water whooshes down

from the gutters

in a torrent

when it rains.

I wondered about her then—

is she ever in danger of

being flooded out?

While I was wondering this,

she appeared again,

cocked her head and said,

“I thought you’d never notice.”

“Notice?” I asked.

“I notice you every day

pouching leftover birdseed.”

“I thought you would never

notice enough

to address me.”

She smiled—

I swear she smiled—

“And now that you have,”

she cleared her throat,

“I will tell you

what I think.”

“What?

I leaned closer.

“I think you should worry less

and notice

more.”

-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.

Held Between

Posted by karynhenleyauthor

My sunroom floor turned into

a game board dotted with

grandson-made Lego creations

that moved in ways only he understood

in his game-wise mind,

ways I was trying to comprehend

when I looked out the window and saw

a chipmunk pouching sunflower seeds,

remnants of a refilled birdfeeder.

“Look!” I pointed.

We both paused and watched,

transfixed by this small creature

busy with her daily task.

All the game tension,

the do-I-move-now and how,

ebbed away, leaving

a sense of peace.

We were silent,

entertained—

literally held between—

in a time out,

and once again, I realized:

moments of all-is-well appear

like steady stepping stones

across a rushing brook,

like restful benches

along a hiking trail.

So much peace comes from

stepping across the stones,

resting on the bench,

stopping to watch a chipmunk.

So much peace comes from the

pauses.

-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.

A Pure Stream of Blue

Carry the Calm

Karyn Henley

chipmunk

Daydrift

The Ebb and Flow of Evensong

What the Chipmunk Told Me

Held Between