Sunday Sunrise

Silent Sunday,
save for the waves
and the call
of the seabirds
for sun to bring
her grace.

Words and images ©LauraDenise 8-15-21

Art & Lens

Upon unnamed seas,
exploring unfound lands
is where you could find me
if ever there were a map,
for even I know not the way
or where I ever am
when I slip through the portals
of my art and lens…

Poem and images ©LauraDenise

I snapped a picture of the clouds while walking into work one day:
inverted and painted, I later brought to life the fleeting escape.

The Language of Light

A picture is worth a thousand words, they say, but words
rise up from within me with ease; my fingers, entwined
with no other, freely without partner, have for years
danced so gracefully across the keys.
It is the image that stills me inside,
that holds me mesmerized,
that I need, I seek, I tweak,
always found in nature
and beneath all the
bling, beneath
even color,
is where I
hear the
angels
sing.

Poem and images ©LauraDenise

May I?

May I never lose my way
to getting lost,
may I never resist the urge
to leave it all,
may I never shelter my face
from the storm,
may I never let my arms fall
in the downpour,
may I never fully wash off
the grit of the sand,
and may I never be restrained
by clock or human hand.

May I never negotiate with my soul:
may I never let anyone close the window.

Poem and images ©LauraDenise

Drops of Fuchsia

A sojourn among the wildflowers
is what my soul needs
in regular doses,
down low
among the “weeds”

where time does not stand still,
but the world does,
for nothing exists in the moment
except for us,

and no greater beauty
can there be
than in the nonmanhandled,
outside-the-garden-lines seed
that blooms so gracefully,
silently defying,
yet exuding pure peace;

that peace
transfers into my essence
as I listen with my soul
to the whispered sapience,

no lesson or story
captivates my interest
more than what the petals transmit,

and to think how often it goes unnoticed –
underfoot, sole-crushed, disregarded –
the natural therapy for inner balance.

If you happen to have the interest,
I’ll share with you what was imparted
on this Tuesday morning in my own backyard
during my daily sojourn

among the wildflowers….

I wish to simply be
the color in your gray,
to open your heart to seeing
every season has new days,
and there always exists
little blessings sent
personally your way…

We all at times lose focus
as the world becomes tear-blurred;
that’s why we were given each other
to lean on, lend strength, stay near.

When we get closer
through the growing trust,
we become less guarded
and show the rest of us,

the complexities,
the other ways through
the protective shield,
the scars, the webs, the truths,

and we find,
though all unique,
we are the same
in our sufferings,

made so we
take turns with it,
return to the circle
of falls and lifts.

I am here
to share my hues,
overflowing now,
but once like you.

And when you come
into fuller bloom,
pay it forward
so others may too
become imbued.

Poem and this morning’s backyard photography ©LauraDenise

Little Tree On The Mountaintop

Little tree on the mountaintop
beneath sun’s celestial reach,
planted purposely at the very peak
or actively advancing toward dreams
from a seed,
more mighty to me
than the mountain itself
and all of the tallest trees
beneath
looking up.

Little tree on the mountaintop
Biblically reminiscent,
perhaps a Jesus story
never told,
or the Lord’s
seemingly futile reach
to have us remember
this precious given life’s
goals.

Who is changed upon the descent from the mountain?
Some things seem to remain as shocking as Moses’.

Confirmations

Some set off to find themselves;
some say wherever you go, there you are.
Some never choose paths to explore
but remain stagnant, wishing upon stars.

(But stars are evermoving,
taking those wishes with them,
beckoning the dreamer to follow
the paths constellationly charted.)

I set off with no objective,
but upon returning, the self-reflection
(thoughts actually in the clouds!)
made me realize about myself
that I am exactly who I thought I’ve already
found.

It’s the lightest I’ve ever felt
upon returning, for now, to the ground.

One Bloom

Sometimes we can light
another’s candle
from the light
of our very soul,
and sometimes
it only takes
one bloom
refusing to fold
to awaken
the world.

Drifting

Blue skies seem sometimes
behind us too far,
and when the oasis of nearness
dissipates into illusion
yet again,
we dangerously tire,

as the colors of hope
fade
like sidewalk chalk
in the rain,
and we drift
without care
into the storm.

But as long as there are
forks and bends
in the paths and roads,
what-ifs and depends,
Fate can only temporarily take
hostages,

for choice and circumstance
and weather will permit
the opportunities
to change direction
over and over again;
only lack of faith
can lead to the
false perception
of dead-ends.

Sometimes when we are
too weary to drive,
another takes the wheel:
sometimes God,
sometimes Satan,
sometimes someone
who loves you still.

Poem and images ©LauraDenise

Simply Introverted

She fans silken petals,
the softest of shells,
not to be coy, just discreetly
distancing herself,

comfortable cocooned,
guilty of pretense,
privacy preferred
over others’ presence,

never unfriendliness,
just not social;
passions and interests
captivate most when alone.

Tending to her own tendrils,
internal biodome,
nirvana nurtured,
nature, home.

She shows the sides
she chooses;
do not assume
that’s all there is.

No longer fear-restrained:
for the first time,
she fully lives.

She fans silken petals,
simply introverted,
but continuously gifts
translucent colors and
serenity’s scent.