Steady and Soft, Damaging and Deadly

Posted by karynhenleyauthor

After weeks of drought,

the rains finally came,

steady and soft.

I sat back and listened to

the soft tap of droplets

showering the windowpane,

the white noise of water boiling

in the kettle,

the gentle creak

of the rocking chair,

whispery gusts of wind,

the hum of the fridge,

the purr of the cat,

the turn of a page,

the distant whir of a jet in flight,

fading into the sound of the rain,

the delicious,

life-giving

rain.

This is not

what my friend heard

in North Carolina,

for this same storm system

that brought me sweet,

life-giving rain

wore a wild mood

when it reached her

rushing in a raging torrent,

a damaging, deadly downpour.

In my back yard,

when the rain ended,

the renewed trees dripped,

sated and peaceful.

Birds warbled and chortled,

branch to branch,

tree to tree,

a clear, world-washed song.

When the rain ended

in my friend’s back yard,

trees lay uprooted,

muddy floods of river water

swirled and swallowed

tangled branches.

I have to believe that birds

still sang from the tip-top

of whatever withstood the storm—

peaked roofs,

stubbornly strong trees,

a post, a pole,

a precariously tilted sign.

May the birds always sing

their ancient wisdom,

their song of courage,

comfort,

and hope.

-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.

Bowing Pines, Drifting Clouds, and the Scent of Rain

Posted by karynhenleyauthor

“Deep Peace,” a traditional Gaelic prayer, inspired my post today. You can hear a lovely musical version by Libera at this link. Below you’ll find my own words to this brief, traditional blessing. It’s my prayer for you.

Deep peace

of the bowing pines to you.

Deep peace

of the drifting clouds to you.

Deep peace

of the scent of rain to you.

Deep peace.

____

Deep peace

of a quiet dawn to you.

Deep peace

of a blooming garden to you.

Deep peace

of the gliding geese to you.

Deep peace.

____

Deep peace

of the dozing dog to you.

Deep peace

of the purring cat to you.

Deep peace

of a gentle hug to you.

Deep peace.

____

Deep peace

of the evening star to you.

Deep peace

of a cool night breeze to you.

Deep peace

of a silken pillow to you.

Deep peace.

____

Deep,

deep

peace

to you.

-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.

Painted with Joy

Posted by karynhenleyauthor

Last night’s drenching rain has left

the morning air cooler,

peacefully breezy,

the sky flecked with drifts of cloud,

the earth dripping color—

brilliant yellows,

rich greens,

deep reds,

velvety blues—

a fresh day of spacious,

gracious spring

painted with the joy of re-creation.

A gray cat tiptoes

through regal irises,

around dogwood dressed in wedding white,

between coral azaleas

in a raindrop-sparkled garden.

The world is full of wonder

at its newborn self.

-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 In-Between Times

Posted by karynhenleyauthor

I woke to birdsong this morning,

a good-morning melody

welcoming the silver-gray light

weaving through the clouds and soft rain

of these in-between days

that bridge winter and spring

and seem so random—

today frosty, possible snow,

tomorrow warm, a hug of sunshine.

New blooms have appeared

on the neighbor’s hellebore,

Lenten roses right on time.

Purple crocuses have smiled open

under the magnolia,

a bit of yellow peeks from a drift of daffodils

under the hackberry,

all cheering me

in these between times.

And truly, we are always in between—

between starting and finishing,

between losing and finding,

between our last step and our next step.

Isn’t it the same with people as with nature?

There are those who bloom

in the in-between times,

those who are our crocuses,

our daffodils,

our Lenten roses,

whose mere presence is a sign of hope,

good cheer,

encouragement

in between the loss of what was

and the uncertainty of what will be,

those who ground us in the present moment

of the in-between.

Thank God for our crocuses,

our daffodils,

our Lenten roses.

Thank God for our in-between friends.

–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 Magic of the Ordinary

Posted by karynhenleyauthor

I would say it’s magical—

although it can be explained—

the way the pepper bush hides

within a pale, flat, round seed

snuggled in the warm dirt,

the way it wakes only when it’s ready,

the way it unfurls arrow-shaped leaves,

stretches thin arms to bask in sunshine,

flirts with wind,

revels in rain,

and smiles in small white blooms.

I know this can be explained,

but it seems magical,

the way those blooms shed petals

and take on pale green skin,

the way they curve and grow longer each day,

turning gold,

blushing orange,

deepening to red,

every day ripening

smooth, shiny, plump.

I pluck them free,

split them,

scoop out scores of seeds,

pale, flat, round,

magic,

for inside each

hides a pepper bush ready to emerge

when the time is right.

I dice these plump, ripe peppers,

stir-fry them,

taste their snappy sweetness,

and marvel at the goodness of the garden.

All of this can be explained,

I know.

But I say

it’s magical.

– kh –

Nurture peace, cultivate the seeds of 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.

And Still They Come

Posted by karynhenleyauthor

In dark silhouette,

a flock of birds

darts,

swift and low,

across a sky cloaked in clouds of gray

in shades that drift

and slowly shift,

now light,

now dark.

Wind, heavy with weather, quickens.

Air thickens.

Branches wag their fingers at the sky.

And still they come,

scores of birds,

arrows speeding,

reading the signs of the clouds,

believing the whine of the wind.

They look so sure of where they’re going.

Some inborn knowing of nature

sends them racing past the trees,

against the breeze.

Are they seeking shelter?

Outrunning the rain?

Or simply celebrating

wings and wind

and the miracle of uplift

on a fresh tide of air

as rain begins to fall.

– 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.

Talking of Rain

Posted by karynhenleyauthor

“The aspens at the cross-roads talk together

Of rain, until their last leaves fall from the top.”

– Edward Thomas, “Aspens” –

The cool morning breeze is whispering to the trees that rain is coming. Hackberries and elms are dropping their golden-brown leaves a few at a time. As they drift slowly down, I breathe deeply of this moment of peace.

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.

As Long as it Wants to Talk

Posted by karynhenleyauthor

“Nobody started it,

nobody is going to stop it.

It will talk as long as it wants, this rain.

As long as it talks I am going to listen.”

– Thomas Merton –

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.

When Skies are Silver

Posted by karynhenleyauthor

On this rainy weekend, I think of another cloudy-about-to-rain day when a friend saw his elderly neighbor at work in her garden. He called, “How are you on this gray day?” She looked up, smiled, and said, “Oh, it’s not a gray day; it’s silver.”

What is water

that pours silver

and can fold the sky?

– Hilda Conkling –

Poems by a Little Girl

Wishing you silver on a cloudy day.

Nurture peace, cultivate kindness, and carry the calm.

Nature of the week: