The Moon was Half

The moon was half tonight,
a white porcelain bowl perched
on a thin shelf of hackberry branches
brushing the night sky.
I wanted to reach out,
to cup it in my palms like
a bowl of soup
or an extra large cocoa.
I wanted to drink from it
a magical sweet moonlight.
Surely it would be smooth,
deliciously moon flavored,
a taste that only those who’ve sipped
the milk of the moon would know.
It would satisfy and warm with wonder,
make the eyes sparkle,
make the smile serene.
A child would notice and ask,
“Why are you so happy?”
and I would answer, “Ah,
it’s because the moon
was half tonight,
and I am full to overflowing.”
–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 © Karyn Henley 2024. All rights reserved.

Why I Need My Garden

 

In the window

above my kitchen sink,

one golden bloom rises on a

toothpick-thin stem

in a tiny pottery vase.

A black-eyed Susan.

I lean closer,

admire her petals,

her dark brown center.

It’s like looking into the smile of God.

Outdoors, pink coneflowers sway

beside magenta coleus leaves

blanket-stitched along the edges

in bright yellow-green.

The smile of God.

Yellow gazania bloom bright,

happily resilient in the heat.

Red-purple impatiens overspread their pot,

preferring the shade.

The smile of God.

I also know the tears of God.

Anyone with eyes to see

and an open heart

feels the sadness,

knows the tears.

So many.

Too many.

That’s why I need my garden—

gazania and impatiens,

cornflower and coleus,

black-eyed Susans.

They remind me

that God does smile.

They give me hope

that we, too—

all shapes, colors, and

types of us—

can flower and flourish

in beauty and peace.

If only we will.

We, too, can be the smile of God.

-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 © 2024 Karyn Henley. All rights reserved.