coleus

Why I Need My Garden

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In the window

above my kitchen sink,

one golden bloom rises on a

toothpick-thin stem

in a tiny pottery vase.

A black-eyed Susan.

I lean closer,

admire her petals,

her dark brown center.

It’s like looking into the smile of God.

Outdoors, pink coneflowers sway

beside magenta coleus leaves

blanket-stitched along the edges

in bright yellow-green.

The smile of God.

Yellow gazania bloom bright,

happily resilient in the heat.

Red-purple impatiens overspread their pot,

preferring the shade.

The smile of God.

I also know the tears of God.

Anyone with eyes to see

and an open heart

feels the sadness,

knows the tears.

So many.

Too many.

That’s why I need my garden—

gazania and impatiens,

cornflower and coleus,

black-eyed Susans.

They remind me

that God does smile.

They give me hope

that we, too—

all shapes, colors, and

types of us—

can flower and flourish

in beauty and peace.

If only we will.

We, too, can be the smile of God.

-kh-

 

Nurture peace, cultivate kindness, and carry the calm.

Nature of the week:

Shadow of the week:

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‎Text and photos © 2024 Karyn Henley. All rights reserved.

What Do a Moment and a Blossom Have in Common?

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“Look past your thoughts

so you may drink the pure nectar of this moment.”

– Rumi –

 

Nurture peace, cultivate loving-kindness, and carry the calm.

Nature of the week – A moment and a blossom, both hold nourishment. Three are looking for nectar in this picture: two bees and one ant – see them?

Shadow of the Week – seen through leaves of coleus:

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

For my posts on life, faith, and the mystery we call God, link here.

 

Text and photos © 2017 Karyn Henley. All rights reserved.