Playful Day

Posted by karynhenleyauthor

Dawn came layered in clouds this morning,
a parfait of light and shade,
pale peach and pale blue
turning lavender as I watched.
Out of the layer of peach,
a glow brightened, bloomed,
sparkled out—
the sun bubbled up,
a happy round lemon.
Those who know,
who foretell such things,
say that this will be our day,
an interplay of cloud and sun,
a mix of light and shade,
until the day tires of play,
leaving a mountainous cloudscape
in the west,
which will flatten, crestfallen
into a field of darkening gray.
The wind will sigh, strong and gusty,
and the playful day
will settle
into an evening
of rain.
-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.

Slipped Between the Pages

Posted by karynhenleyauthor

I grabbed the nearest piece of paper,

slipped it between pages-read and not-read in

wife/daughter/self by Beth Kephart, a favorite writer.

I shoved the book into my carry-on

and dashed out to catch a flight to Texas

to visit my dad, rich in years at 95 and,

to his consternation, confined to a wheelchair.

By the time I arrived, he was,

to his consternation, confined to his bed

and being fed

by caregivers.

A day went by,

two,

three,

until the morning he couldn’t eat

and hardly roused from sleep.

“Have you ever heard a death rattle?”

a caregiver asked.

I had not—

until that day,

that day he raised his arms,

reached for the sky,

opened his eyes,

gazed beyond the ceiling,

and then left us

for something more.

Days later, standby on a flight home,

I took the last seat on the plane

and slipped my paper boarding pass,

between the same pages of the same book.

I had not read any farther,

did not read on the flight,

but found comfort holding wife/daughter/self.

A week later, by the light of early evening,

I settled in to read,

my place marked by two slips of paper.

The first was a card from a bouquet

from one of my sons:

“Happy Mother’s Day! We love you.”

The other was the boarding pass

that meant leaving my father

for the last time.

As the light dimmed, there I sat,

holding two cards, one book, and me.

I had slipped between the pages of life,

somewhere between parents and children,

closing one chapter,

turning the page to another,

and hoping for a happy ending.

– 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 Song of All-is-Done

Posted by karynhenleyauthor

A steady swish and swash

whispers from the dishwasher.

The tide of soap and water

swiftly ebbs and flows

with white noise,

the song of all-is-done,

all-is-well,

no more urgency of

clattering silverware,

clinking dishes,

stirring peppers and potatoes,

cracking eggs,

buttering,

salting,

tasting,

serving,

clearing.

All is done for the day.

I sit by lamplight,

cat in my lap,

book open to the next chapter

to read,

to rest,

to doze to the song of the sea

in a box

and imagine that I’m at the ocean,

waves shushing me,

wind feathering my hair,

my toes in the sand,

leaving footprints as I stroll

along the shore.

This evening,

listening to the swashing song

of day-is-done,

I stroll the shore of my thoughts.

Perhaps even here,

I will leave footprints.

– 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.

Something About the Night

Posted by karynhenleyauthor

There is something soft and friendly

about the night,

a slowing,

settling,

deep drift

that creeps silently over the world

as the light folds her brightly colored fan

and fades.

Evening shadows gently wash over

grasses and gardens,

chipmunks and squirrels,

bugs and birds.

Darkness rises to the rooftops,

shoulders over the treetops

until all rests under a dome of darkness

where stars sail and the moon smiles

and the night breeze dances.

When I was young,

I was taught about heaven.

“There is no night there,” we sang,

which saddened me for years.

No night?

No beautiful, calming, restful night?

No chirp of crickets?

No whirr of night bugs?

No lovely call of a lone owl?

I am not convinced about heaven,

but I know the night.

I love the night.

There is something soft and friendly

about the night.

-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.

Winter Evenings

Posted by karynhenleyauthor

On winter evenings, I sit at a window

and watch the twilight sky

as the sun slips away,

leaving in its wake

a gift of shifting color.

Tonight, the sky is soft,

a silver blue tinted with yellow,

and patches of pink.

Bare branches of backyard trees

curve and cross in silhouette,

upstretched in silent worship,

vespers on a silver evening.

Between and beyond

the filigree of twigs and branches,

a light appears,

bright white,

barely moving.

A distant plane.

Slowly,

smoothly,

quietly

it traces a line

through the delicate maze,

then glides away

as the silver blue sky,

slowly,

smoothly,

quietly

darkens

into a rich hush,

the velvet blue,

of a winter night.

– 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.

Give Me October

Posted by karynhenleyauthor

Give me October’s meditative haze,

Its gossamer mornings, dewy-wimpled eves…

And all is peace, peace, and plump fruitfulness.

– Alfred Austin, “October” –

Nurture peace. Cultivate kindness.

When you can, step away from the chaos and into the calm.

Then carry that calm with you, deep in your heart.

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.

Breathless With Adoration

Posted by karynhenleyauthor

“It is a beauteous evening, calm and free;

The holy time is quiet as a Nun

Breathless with adoration; the broad sun

Is sinking down in his tranquility . . .”

– William Wordsworth –

Evening, morning, afternoon – any time of day and any length of time, even a single minute, can be holy time. We make it so by paying attention, by pausing in breathless adoration, by settling, if only for a moment, into tranquility.

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

Nature of the week:

Shadow of the Week:

For my posts on coming of age in a community of faith, link here.

What Seas Are You Sailing?

Carry the Calm

Karyn Henley

evening

Playful Day

Slipped Between the Pages

The Song of All-is-Done

Something About the Night

Winter Evenings

Give Me October

Breathless With Adoration