writing

Listen to the stillness—
nine writers writing,
thoughts full and circling
like wisps of colors.
Hands softly slide across paper,
catching muses mid-flight,
turning them into ink marks.
If I could see the thoughts,
I suspect some would have
jagged glass-shard edges,
while others would be
smooth as smoke.
Listen to the stillness.
Pens and pencils scratch,
soft and swirling,
sometimes hesitating,
sometimes racing
to keep captured words
from escaping.
Outdoors, the tide of traffic
ebbs and flows with a whispering whoosh.
Inside, we, too, ebb and flow
on a journey
through voices in our minds,
through memories
and wonderings
and questions
and answers—
though at least for me,
there are more questions than answers,
and every answer brings more questions.
Now a train rumbles past,
brakes squealing,
for we’re in a building by the train yard.
As the rumble fades,
quiet descends once more.
The rustle of a page turned,
a sniff,
a shift,
a soft scribble,
and the quiet of nine writers
writing.
-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 poet’s words, written and flung

into the wildness of my day

became a signpost:

“This is as far as the light

Of my understanding

Has carried me…” she had written*

in an intimate moment of generosity

on the page,

a prompt from someone

I don’t even know,

a private nod,

a poetic nudge

to begin exactly there

and follow the trail where

it would take me;

so I wandered that way—

how far has the light

of my understanding

carried me?

To writing in this room with friends,

the sound of traffic

our rushing river,

the rug beneath us

our grassy meadow,

twinkle lights on steel rafters

the heavens above us,

the rustle of writing papers

a breeze sweeping leaves,

our universe a shelter,

our hearts hurt but

healing,

hopeful.

I close my eyes and see us all

in drifts of moonlight

making our way through stars,

out where peace flows,

for we are meditating.

This—yes, this

is as far as my understanding

has carried me,

and for now,

that is far enough.

-kh-

*from “Midlife” by Julie Cadwallader Shaub

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.

Carry the Calm

Karyn Henley

The Writing Class

A Private Nod