Somewhere Above

Posted by karynhenleyauthor

Somewhere above the twilight clouds
there are stars.
Always stars.
Timeless stars.
When a spring evening like this,
cool and rainy,
paints overcast skies deep violet
and turns trees into ruffled silhouettes,
when the wine-red triangles
of burgundy shamrocks
take a hint from the fading light
and fold themselves like tiny umbrellas,
when the cat snuggles into my lap
for fur-soft cuddles,
then time itself seems to pause
for one last look
at the wondering, wandering world
at the close of day.
For one moment,
two,
three,
time holds its breath,
listens,
lingers.
And then,
soft as a sigh,
it drifts into night.
And somewhere above the clouds
there are stars.
-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 2026. All rights reserved.

There’s a Cat in My Lap

Posted by karynhenleyauthor

Basil and marigolds
are starting to droop in their pots
and I really should water them,
but there’s a cat on my lap,
curled up and cozy,
so I watch twilight
paint the sky lavender
and darken to purple.
I need to change the air filter
in my refrigerator.
I have the replacement out
on the counter,
ready to go,
but there’s a cat in my lap,
eyes closed, breathing softly,
so I watch the lights come on
in the neighbors’ windows,
squares of warm gold,
friendly islands
in the deepening darkness.
I thought I might read
as I sit here rocking,
or answer some emails,
but my hands are folded under
a cat in my lap,
so I notice the white that perfectly outlines
her gray-brown ears.
I really need to wash the dishes
and take out the trash.
Feel free to tell me so,
but, you see,
there’s a cat in my lap,
and I am grateful,
for she is old,
she is faithful,
she is even now teaching me
to rest,
to wait,
to see all that would have gone unnoticed
if she had not settled down in my lap.
So the basil and marigolds can wait,
and the refrigerator filter, too.
I can read and answer emails later,
and the dishes aren’t going anywhere.
There’s a cat in my lap,
so I take the hint,
settle in,
close my eyes,
and breathe softly,
purrfectly content.
-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 Ebb and Flow of Evensong

Posted by karynhenleyauthor

The sizzling heat of late summer days
seems to slow the flow of time
to a sultry slog.
The sun sets red and gold,
making way for a cooler time of day—
well, technically, a degree or two lower,
but can we truly call it cooler?
Twilight radiates with leftover heat,
and it’s too hot to open the windows.
Even a breeze through the screen
blows hot air.
My windows-open,
listen-to-nature heart
sighs at this season
sealed behind double panes of glass.
But I discover that if I’m quiet and still,
I can hear beyond closed windows.
Night bugs are beginning
their ebb and flow of evensong,
joined by squeaky yips from a chipmunk
somewhere among the trees,
which are now only
bulky, billowy silhouettes
with scalloped and fringed edges
against the rich blue-violet sky.
A bird adds to the chorus with chirps
that sound like a repeated question
asking the chipmunk, What? What?
I think I know the answer to what?
My cat is outdoors,
so the chipmunk’s yip is no doubt
a danger signal to its family and friends
as well as a warning to the cat.
As darkness deepens
and swallows the silhouettes,
my cat comes inside.
Chips and chirps slow,
taper to a stop,
leaving evensong to the insects.
This is a choir you can hear
even though windows are closed.
But I suspect that the heart
must be open.
-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.

Night Has Not Fallen

Posted by karynhenleyauthor

It’s early twilight,
that gray-blue time of evening
when the neighborhood eases into
the quieter hours of our day.
Chili is simmering on the stove
and the table is set,
so I sit in my rocking chair
to witness the world beyond windows,
to watch the night fall.
“Fall” is a strange way to say it.
Night doesn’t really fall;
it slips in,
seeps through bare, laced branches,
slowly veils the hills.
Tonight the sky is cloud-covered,
a full sweep of blue-gray
gradually growing violet in the east
as if heaven’s light switch
is slowly dimming the day.
It’s a peaceful drift,
moment by moment
as the sky lets go of its dusky gray
and drapes itself in a deepening blue
inviting all who pause and watch
to enter its ease,
to breathe its comfort,
to settle into the serenity of evening
and experience the magic of
twilight blue turning into velvet dark,
whispering calm to a world
that will soon settle into sleep.
No, night has not fallen.
It has snuggled in.
-kh-

Nurture peace, cultivate kindness, and carry the calm.

Nature of the week:

Shadow of the week (made by sun shining through a bottle of syrup):

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

Center Stage

Posted by karynhenleyauthor

For one bright moment

before the sun set,

its spotlight fell full on

three bunches of crape myrtle blooms,

dazzling them to a deep pink blush

as they hung like fancy chandeliers

on gently arced branches

high above the shadowed lawn.

For one bright moment

they took center stage

before the sun eased its beams higher

for its last brilliant gift of the day,

leaving the pink blooms fading into

the settling peace of twilight.

As my birthday came and went this week,

I saw myself in those frilly, full,

gathered blooms,

for it seems that all of life buds

and blossoms

and opens

into full bloom

for one bright moment

before the sun sets.

I am grateful to see,

in the settling twilight,

a beautiful peace.

-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 Color of Life

Posted by karynhenleyauthor

The poem claimed that life was the color of

“almost pale white robin’s green…”*

I shook my head,

for I know that the color of life

is blue—

blue like the sky,

blue like the sea,

blue for peace that is meant to be,

blue for cool breath,

blue for color-shifting twilight.

its blue-green glow deepening

to velvet blue

as night falls.

I feel the color of life as blue—

the blue-violet of deep thought,

the sharp-edged gray blue of grief,

the airy, floating blue of hope.

Yes. The color of life is blue—

thirst quenching,

soul resting,

heart holding,

dream painting,

wild-and-tame,

up-and-down,

surge-and-rest,

swimming,

swirling,

settling,

soothing

blue.

I see you shaking your head.

What color is life

to you?

– kh –

* from “Eggshell” by Gerald Stern

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.

Winter Evenings

Posted by karynhenleyauthor

On winter evenings, I sit at a window

and watch the twilight sky

as the sun slips away,

leaving in its wake

a gift of shifting color.

Tonight, the sky is soft,

a silver blue tinted with yellow,

and patches of pink.

Bare branches of backyard trees

curve and cross in silhouette,

upstretched in silent worship,

vespers on a silver evening.

Between and beyond

the filigree of twigs and branches,

a light appears,

bright white,

barely moving.

A distant plane.

Slowly,

smoothly,

quietly

it traces a line

through the delicate maze,

then glides away

as the silver blue sky,

slowly,

smoothly,

quietly

darkens

into a rich hush,

the velvet blue,

of a winter night.

– 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 Stretch and a Deep Breath

Posted by karynhenleyauthor

In the twilight of dawn, I lie in bed and let the cool breeze brush over me as I listen to the world outside my open windows. The first thing I hear is a soft underlying swish like a gentle tide, maybe wind in the trees, maybe cars on the distant freeway. Around six o’clock, a jet crosses the sky with a hum that rises in a momentary crescendo and then fades away. A car rushes down the street. A bird twitters somewhere in the distance. Another one answers closer in. The cat jumps off the bed with a light thud. There’s a distant pulsing beep of a truck backing up and a growing river of traffic on the freeway a couple of miles north. An insect begins a high-pitched hum. Another jet flies overhead with a whine. Another bird joins in the morning song, another car swishes as it passes by. Chirps and faint rumbles drift in. I add a rustle of sheets, a stretch, and a deep breath. My bed creaks as I rise. The world is waking up.

Nurture yourself with moments of 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.