wings

Windows and Wings

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Surfacing from the depths of dream
in the middle of the night,
I find my mind replaying
a difficult day,
rewinding, reminding.
All I want to do is turn over,
return to sleep.
Instead, I walk the edge of wakefulness
wishing to will myself into slumber,
but my mind hums,
will not will itself
to leave life alone for a while.
At last, I ease open my eyes.
There on my night-gray ceiling
are two splashes of light
from my neighbor’s yard,
filtered through my window
and stretching above me,
skewed and angled,
softly crossing
like stylized wings
painted protectively overhead.
Windows have become wings,
and that feels just right,
for windows are wings for me.
By day, by night,
windows set my soul to flight,
open me to the dancing expanse
of wonder and hope
that lies beyond
and beyond the beyond.
My eyes drift closed.
Grateful for windows,
grateful for wings,
I settle once more
into sleep.
-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 2026. All rights reserved.

Flitting Among the Petunias

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The butterfly was so small—
with yellow wings—
a sulfur, I think it’s called.
It looked so happy flitting
among the petunias,
a bright spot dipping and swishing
into the pink and purple.
The cat watched,
fascinated.
But being a cat,
she was unable to simply watch
and swatted at it,
brought it down.
It fluttered,
tried to rise,
but was no match for the cat’s paw
and jaw,
for the cat lapped it up,
that fluttery, dusty, yellow-winged thing,
and swallowed it down
in one gulp.
After all,
the butterfly was so small.
-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 2025. All rights reserved.

With a Flash of Wings

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You’re a topsy-turvy,

upside-down eater,

a sleek seeker of seeds,

my little nuthatch friend.

You cling tail up

to the green metal mesh

and poke around

for a sunflower seed,

but you find none

because I failed to fill the feeder.

By the time I bring my bag of seeds,

you have flown.

I unhook your empty pantry and

pour in a waterfall of seeds.

Rushing,

tumbling

sunflower grains,

shiny dark

speckled with white,

they pile up,

a feast for the feathered.

Before I can rehang the feeder,

you dash in

with a flash of wings,

and I freeze.

The feeder dangles from my fingers.

For a moment, you perch,

topsy-turvy, upside-down,

then snatch a snack

and dart away,

wings waving.

Sleek little beak-down clown,

you are brave to come so close.

Did you think I was a flower?

I’m wearing blossom pink—

not my favorite color,

but maybe yours?

Whatever you thought,

your presence was a compliment.

You made my heart glad,

and I thank you.

– kh –

Nurture peace, cultivate kindness, and carry the calm.

Nature of the week:

Shadow of the Week:

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

And Still They Come

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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.

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

The Secret of Cupped Hands

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I have a daydream of the present moment, the now. In that dream, we stand with hands cupped before us, holding what we thought were the thorns of the past. But they’ve turned into fragrant flowers. As we cradle these flowers in our palms, something marvelous happens: the petals become wings, and with one joyful toss of our cupped hands, we send them flying into the future. And when we lower our hands, we realize that, in spite of everything we let go, our hands are not empty. They are full of mystery and grace and hope enough to fuel our next steps.

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.

Soaring

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“No bird soars too high if he soars with his own wings.”

– William Blake –

 

Sometimes it’s hard to recognize your own wings, to appreciate them, to come to love them. Sometimes you have to lean on someone else’s wings first. But when you recognize and accept your own, that’s when your heart soars.

Nurture peace, cultivate kindness, and carry the calm.

Nature of the week – Lenten Rose:

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 © 2019 Karyn Henley. All rights reserved.

White as Wings of Prayer

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“The mists above the morning rills

Rise white as wings of prayer.”

– John Greenleaf Whittier –

 

Need a bit of solace for your soul? Gently soar on the soft music and prayerlike, birdlike wings of this kinetic sculpture, Diffusion Choir. It’s short, and it’s amazing.

Nourish peace, cultivate loving kindness, and carry the calm.

Nature of the week – fragrant ginger, still blooming here in November!

ginger

Shadow of the Week:

shdwflrspikes

For my posts on coming of age in a community of faith, link here.

Text and photos © 2016 Karyn Henley. All rights reserved.

 

Cares Will Drop Away