leaves

Peace, They Insist

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A trio of peace lilies stands tall
at my back window.
Raindrop-shaped upper leaves
curve over pebbled flower stalks
like hands gently cupping a candle
to protect it from a draft.
I imagine these upper leaves
shielding these symbols of peace
from today’s blast of bad news,
war and destruction,
hunger and hurt,
clenched fists, bared teeth,
faces distorted with anger.
How can these flowers stand quietly
proclaiming peace, peace, peace
in such a time of tension?
And yet they do, and they have.
Year after year,
decade after decade,
in calm, in turbulence,
peace lilies have stood tall in our world.
Today’s sunlight drifts in,
glows through dark lower leaves
and light upper leaves
translucent as stained-glass windows.
Peace, the lilies insist,
sharing their ancient wisdom,
and I see that peace is many-layered.
I cannot wave a wand and win world peace.
I cannot change minds and hearts
of those who hold tight to hatred.
I cannot control the uncontrollable.
But the inner layer of peace
is heart deep.
I can cup my own flame,
maybe yours too.
Maybe we can shield each other
from the cutting wind.
Maybe we can be translucent,
let the light glow through us.
Maybe we can stand tall for peace.
It’s said that often,
in the wild,
peace lilies grow in colonies.
I will stand alone if I have to,
but I believe we are a colony.
I am looking beyond my back window.
I’m aiming to grow
and glow
peace
in the wild.
-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 2024. All rights reserved.

Flames of Spring Green

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This morning my hydrangea,

bedraggled and brown,

decided Spring has arrived.

Each spindly stem,

lined with loose withered leaves,

has become a spindly candle

topped with a tiny flame of

spring-green leaves.

I shake my head. It’s December.

Doesn’t Nature know better than to

leaf out

when Winter is just days away?

Nature whispers, Enjoy my candles,

my hope,

resilience,

renewal,

reawakening,

untethered to season.

Nature is budding

just for the joy of it.

Yesterday, someone asked me,

How old are you?

Seventy-one, I told him.

Really—he said—I wouldn’t have guessed.

Really.

Yes, really.

But I, like my hydrangea,

have decided that Spring has come.

–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.

Text and photos © 2023 Karyn Henley. All rights reserved.

The Dance of the Season

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It’s the dance of the season,

the frolic of Fall.

Leaves

drift

down.

Pollen freckles the birdbath,

tickles my nose—

a snappy breeze,

an autumn sneeze.

Branches bow,

a leaf breaks loose.

Then another.

And another.

Lifted and swirled,

tossed and twirled,

they join the drift,

the sink and lift on

cool currents of air

that stir them around

and down

to the ground

to scuffle and settle.

All the while, the breeze whispers to leaves

still clinging to branches,

“Come and dance.

Come and dance.”

And they do,

and they will

until branches are bare

and a chill stirs the air.

Then Fall flicks her skirts

and flirts with Winter

who knows this dance well.

She’ll take the lead

flinging flakes of frost

in a waltz with the wind.

But that’s weeks away.

For today, it’s a breeze

and a sneeze

and a timid drift

of golden leaves.

– kh –

 

Nurture peace, cultivate kindness, and carry the calm.

 

Nature of the week—moonrise:

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.

We Bring Things

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We bring things for our people—

armfuls of leaves and petals and stems.

We bring things for our people—

paints of red and daffodil yellow,

sea blue and forest green,

poems of peace

and questions for musing.

With outstretched hands,

we bring ourselves—

our seeking souls

our open hearts.

We bring things for our people,

and it’s like bringing the sunshine.

– kh –

I wrote this about being a facilitator/teacher at Art & Soul Nashville, a community of intuitive artmaking where I take classes and sometimes teach. Who are your people? What do you bring them? What do they bring you? In what communities or friendships do you find peace? Count yourself blessed.

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.

Text and photos © 2023 Karyn Henley. All rights reserved.

The Peace of Mid-Morning

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The clock ticks quietly

mid-morning

on this day that’s sunny

with a thin layer of clouds.

It’s warm enough for open windows.

A light breeze drifts in.

Outside it’s flicking leaves off the trees.

They tumble,

somersault,

land with soft clicks,

rattle to a stop and settle,

only to be scooped up

by a sudden gust

that skitters them,

scatters them,

tumbles them

into a pile against the fence.

The elm is speckled with the hangers-on,

the last to let go.

 Soon it will be empty

of leaves.

The clock ticks

quietly toward noon.

– 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.

Text and photos © 2022 Karyn Henley. All rights reserved.

The Peace of Simply Sitting

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After lunch yesterday, I simply sat in my sunroom. I would say I sat in silence, but I was the silent one; the world around me kept humming, although quietly—a gentle tick of the clock, the soft breath of the air conditioner, muted chirps from birds outdoors, the distant rush of a jet crossing the sky. Sunlight turned the tops of the leaves outside a bright green, while deeper in and underneath, the leaves were a forest of dark shadow. A gentle breeze swayed their stems and led them in a slow dance. I was still and silent for only a moment, but that moment filled me with a sense of expanding serenity, and I returned to the tasks of the day refreshed and hopeful.

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.

Text and photos © 2022 Karyn Henley. All rights reserved.

A Rush of Richness

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“The glassy peartree leaves and blooms, they brush

The descending blue; that blue is all in a rush

With richness.”

– Gerard Manley Hopkins, “Spring” –

 

Nature of the week:—pear blossoms:

Shadow of the Week:

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Text and photos © 2021 Karyn Henley. All rights reserved.

Something Whispered

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Something told the wild geese

– It was time to go;

Though the fields lay golden

– Something whispered, – ‘Snow.’

Leaves were green and stirring,

– Berries luster-glossed,

But beneath warm feathers

– Something cautioned, – ‘Frost.’

– Rachel Field –

 

Enjoy the magical change of seasons. Nurture peace, cultivate kindness, and carry the calm.

Nature of the week:

Shadow of the Week – a lamppost:

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

Text and photos © 2020 Karyn Henley. All rights reserved.

Every Leaf

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“What is autumn? . . . A second spring, where every leaf is a flower.”

– Albert Camus, Le Malentendu –

 

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.

For my longer posts on the art of noticing, link here.

http://karynhenley.com

 

Text and photos © 2018 Karyn Henley. All rights reserved.

Every Leaf a Flower

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From Le Malentendu by Albert Camus –

Martha: What is autumn?

Jan: A second spring, where every leaf is a flower.

If autumn is beginning to display her colors in your part of the world, I hope you can pause for a moment to breathe deeply of her beauty as she quietly and steadily transforms into a second, and very rich, spring.

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

Nature of the week – signs of autumn found on my back deck:

Shadow of the Week – on my garden shoes:

 

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. http://karynhenley.com

 

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