grandson

Silent Conversation

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On a shelf in my kitchen
sit two pieces of art
created by my grandson,
one a painting in bright acrylic
swoops and curves
of red and dark blue
with one bold yellow line
across the top
dancing up and down
in roller coaster fashion.
The other piece is less-permanent,
black and white sand
sandwiched between glass panes.
Turned and shaken,
it has settled into shapes
that zig and zag into white peaks
and swoop down into dark drifts.
The two pieces share similar shapes,
the lines and angles of one
flowing across the space between them
to circle back like an echo,
to reach out like a handshake,
to nod in silent conversation.
The bold yellow, red, and blue
sings of Mardi Gras,
all flowing ribbons, feathers, and scarves,
loud and proud and dancing free
while the black and white sand
is as staid as a winter mountain,
as elegant as a tuxedo at a wedding,
as formal as a ballroom waltz.
The black and white is a soaring symphony.
The bold color is reggae.
They are not alike
and yet they are.
Each fills its space with rhythm,
each falls and rises in waves.
But the best thing they have in common
is that they were both created
by the same young hands.
-kh-

Nurture peace, cultivate kindness, and carry the calm.

Nature of the week:


Shadow of the week:

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Text and photos © Karyn Henley 2026. All rights reserved.

The Wisdom of the Ink

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Aprons,
plastic tablecloth,
printer paper,
black ink,
paper towels,
wet rags,
we were ready to create,
my grandson and I.
After I gave the requisite precautions,
he dripped and dribbled
black ink on white paper
wherever he chose.
Then he tipped the paper—
gently, I cautioned again,
grandma that I am—
angled the paper one way,
then the other.
Black paint eased into flowing lines,
pooled here and there,
crept across the page
as one young boy drifted
into the fascination
of the flow and spread of black rivers
mapping themselves into tiny streams
curving,
turning corners,
intersecting.
To no one but the ink,
he softly said,
“Time to create passages,
connect with others,
and make peace.”
Amen, I thought.
May it be.
-kh-

Nurture peace, cultivate kindness, and carry the calm.

Here’s part of my grandson’s ink picture:

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.

Held Between

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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

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

What’s the Hurry?

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Today’s to-do list is long—

Clear the back deck of dried beans

and a drinking straw

left from yesterday when I taught

my grandson how to make

a pea shooter

Clean the upstairs bathroom

Vacuum

Bake bread

and whatever else comes up in between.

But my cat was on my lap,

curled and cozy

as if to say,

what’s the hurry,

this,

this,

this is what’s important.

And I noticed how brown strands of fur

mingled with gray,

how the white was growing whiter with age,

how her closed eyes smiled

and her breath gentled in and out.

I hushed the waiting tasks,

felt the warm sun on my shoulders,

listened to the quiet

for a moment

and a moment longer.

When I rose to tackle my to-do list,

my cat followed me upstairs

and sat in a splash of sun,

watching

as I calmly cleaned the bathroom

to a porcelain shine.

She was at peace.

And so was I.

– kh –

 

Nurture peace, cultivate kindness, and carry the calm.

 

Nature of the week—Black-eyed Susans are still blooming:

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 © 2023 Karyn Henley. All rights reserved.