“There was an old woman tossed up in a basket,
Nineteen times as high as the moon;
And where she was going, I couldn’t but ask it,
For in her hand she carried a broom.

“‘Old woman, old woman, old woman,’ said I,
O whither, O whither, O whither so high?’
‘To sweep the cobwebs out of the sky!’
‘Shall I go with you?’ ‘Aye, by and by.’”

There was a time,
years and years ago,
when an old woman swept the sky,*
when the moon was the North Wind’s cookie,**
and when Mrs. Peck-Pigeon
went pecking for bread.***
Who knew that such a long ago time
would take root and grow into
a warm, spacious place-of-mind,
a pool of peace,
a cup of all-is-well within me.
Of course, out in the big, wide world,
all is not well
and was not well even then,
but my heart tiptoes back
to this landing place where I can
hold the open hand of hope,
find gentle joy,
and open again and again
the treasure box
of childhood dreams and imagining,
where all things are possible
and the currency of trade is
simple kindness.
Who knew that such a pool
of goodness and trust
would never dry up
but would be there still,
seventy years on and counting.
Who knew that it would call to me
on bright spring days,
that it would be my “land of nod”
on the darkest of nights.
Who could know?
But even now,
the moon is the North Wind’s cookie,
Mrs. Peck Pigeon still peck, peck, pecks,
the old woman still sweeps the sky.
I still ask her, “Shall I go with you?”
And she still replies,
“Aye. By and by.”
-kh

*nursery rhyme **Vachel Lindsay *** Eleanor Farjeon

Nurture peace, cultivate kindness, and carry the calm.

Nature of the week – bluebirds!:

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Text and photos © Karyn Henley 2025. All rights reserved.