Category: Uncategorized

Fungal Reflection

I don’t usually like to know the scientific facts about the subjects I find and photograph in nature, even basic identification. It spoils the wonder and mystery to me, the thrill of all my imagination hatches, the magic, the mysticism, the fantasy, the tales, the divine creation we think we know all about. These are my discoveries; I am the first explorer to ever lay eyes on the new species. Instead of sketching them in my diary, I photograph them; I am both from the future and the past. 

I couldn’t resist though peeking into the portal of cyberspace regarding this spectacular mushroom variety I haven’t seen before (I don’t think…). “Puffballs” they are, supposedly common. And of course, as reading when you are a born lifelong reader tends to go, I read a bit more… They have a poisonous “Death Cap” doppelgänger, well imposter anyway, being the most interesting fact to me. 

These I spotted underfoot between my car and classroom back door going into work the other day. To photograph them meant anyone could be watching and definitely would wonder even more about me. Of course, I risked it all and got down low and took the shot. It was too intriguing in and of itself but also because they were paired and the morning light and shadows were beautiful. I love couplets of anything in nature because I am a romantic. I also champion the overlooked or undervalued in nature, especially weeds and fungi. 

Where to begin with what I could spin from this encounter and image souvenir?…

Two as one
connected, 
shadows merging,
agreed to be
shared,

to increase
the surface area
so the darkness
lightens
in lichen-like
dual-stabilization:
paired.

One absorbs
more sun 
than the other
but feeds
its partner
the light
not so directly;

at times
they reverse roles
when the other 
needs
to shrink
into safety
awhile
and be protected
temporarily.

The world passes by,
so many times before
both cruelly and unknowingly
treading upon them;

others of their kind
turned poisonous,
but these two
remain true
to themselves
and their commitment,

not letting others’
judgement affect 
their joy
or quality of life
and above all
love,

testament to
there being someone
for everyone
and such a connection
vital,
to feel that touch,
to trust…

or maybe I am seeing 
too much 
in these balls
of mushroom puffs
I stumbled upon
on my way
to work
this morn. 

Always Have Been

When the voices inside,
whether yours or theirs,
start to rise up and disguise 
the lies as truths,

look to the sky
and see the ray
of light shining down
on false transparencies 
refracting all the
beautiful colors
that make up you.

Don’t use artificial
looking glasses,
for the perpetrators
can too easily
hide behind them,
your doppelgänger included. 

See your reflection instead
in the windows of the souls
of those who genuinely love you:

the portals will be clouded over
for only non-love pierces
with ulterior motive
and unwilling hypnosis.

The only one being used
when the truths are real
is the messenger revealing
how God sees you
as his beloved creation.

You are precisely as He 
has lovingly with purpose
made you. 

You are more than enough. 
You are perfect in His eyes. 
Don’t let unreliable narrators
convince you otherwise. 

You are the story. 
You are also the pen. 
You are the blank page
today again. 

Don’t succumb
to writer’s block
by others injected:
each day you leave
the space unmarked
is another win for them. 

To be held in captivity 
is only a matter of the mind:
there are no chains binding you.
However messily you need to, 
just write the first line 

of today. 
And do it again tomorrow. 
Until you remember
where it was you were headed

before getting derailed, 
detoured, delayed…
You have the power
to begin 
the change. 

Pick up the hose
to see the rainbow;
don’t wait for the next rain. 

You don’t need to search.
You are the gold. 

You always have been. 

Heart-Skips in the Storm

Holding on
through the storms
has never been good
analogy for me;
for nothing like a storm 
gives way to the power
dormant previously,

asleep, forgetful
of my potential;
when the storm arrives,
it excitedly arises
from my inner-deep.

The let-down
is when it
recedes,
but it leaves
its rumbles
astir in me
and wakes
the memories
of past-life dreams… 

The last
of the thunder
echoes in the distance
as the first notes
of the first birdsong
overlap in the natural
chorus;

powerful in itself
is that herald call,
the first to surface
in the after
of the storm.

Poem and images ©LauraDenise

Out of Season

Determined to counter the moody clouds
others have been attempting to cast onto me,
I choose to seek out the sun, spring-infuse myself,
dip my soul into the fresh-blooming green,

breathe in the revitalizing April air,
let the warming rays seep in through my pores,
absorbed more in the whole of the reborn panorama than
focused on the details imploring to be explored, 

labrador-blue heeler happy for any outdoor adventure, 
not a hike but a mutually restorative leisurely linger, 
ahhh…a new season…

Circling back to the start, back to the car, 
I am not allowed to leave, it seems, 
until Mother Nature imparts
a lesson, whispers words of wisdom 
through some not-new, refusing-to-be-forgotten
leaves from two seasons ago, 
still here, and starkly so, 
weathered, fossilized autumn,

a reminder of the past
not so easily dismissed;
buried or not, it insists
on revisits,
coming to you
if you neglect it, 
but what we make
of what is, 
that is the endless work
or blessing
depending on the nature
of what was–
bright, shiny yellow
of yesterday
against the conglomerate
of rocks, man-manipulated
into asphalt,
a yellow sickness
or stubborn
fading sun,
either way the marring,
tattered edges and holes,
do not seem to take the whole,
still here despite the winter
with a fortitude to witness,
to reunite with the green 
it was itself once.

I see a reminder that
we can turn
our back on the past
and run to spring,
but all seasons remain, 
never really leave,
inside us always
are the memories,
tears of joy and loss,
the scars of life;
we can embrace it all, 
co-exist in peace
with all that is inside. 

I choose to find 
the positive,
even in the stumbling 
upon the past
in my determined
celebration of the
present moments,
all presents indeed,
and then I find a smile
in the concrete
when I see
yet another unexpected
chapter of a
love story,
so pure and yet to be
complete…

I wonder what those
resigned to defeat see.
Perception can sting
regardless, some things
we simply must feel
but perspective…
that is the key
in our control
and possession,
a powerful tool we
can self-weld and
self-wield,
manipulate,
to preserve
our internal
peace.

Poem and images ©LauraDenise

Everything Passes

everything passes
the good and the bad
time keeps nudging
us forward
with or without
what we once had

we can only carry
so much
in a heart, in a mind
some things we cling to
time tries to help us
leave behind

sometimes what we
strive for
simply cannot be
reached
glass divides
sound and touch
mirrors reflect
incongruities

for reasons we may
not be privy to
for certain people
may only be
meant to be
crosspathing through

to serve
but one purpose
which is not to stay
but to nudge us again
in internal direction
pitfalls propelling us
alternate ways

everything passes
including the pain waves
time keeps nudging
us forward
with or without
permission
every moment
of every day

Poem and image ©LauraDenise

Holding Photographs

nostalgia bittersweet
joy so genuine, effortless
radiating, echoing
from fading photographs

touched, held between
ringless fingers and the fumes
of a heart on empty
from the moment
so distantly removed

time does not warp
those precious instances
forever suspended
feelings will flutter on
thousands of centuries

bittersweet for the bliss
is eternally retrievable
but if the present is less
then the tears
breach suppressible

falling is the gravity
of sadness, all rain
nature running its course
to cleanse the panes

we simply must
adjust the frames
order the montages
strategically arrange

so when we step back
to take in the collective
the rainbow across
our present
gets light-refracted

Crowning

My fascination,
favorite attraction, 
purest joy
photographing nature,

is finding the meek
among the mundane
and crowning
with due recognition
the beauty beyond fit
for the stage;

sort of like lemonade
from life’s lemons, 
I like to look
at it all through 
the light in my lenses.

The less obvious,
the underfoot trodden,
I refract the rays
to highlight
the forgotten,

and so it goes
as a life lesson:
beauty exists
all around us,

the purest gems
right beside us,
all perfect as is
before the bruiting,
for we are all precious
within.

Wish Depletion

No wishes for you;
they’ve all been used –
all that’s left,
dark silhouettes
on a backdrop
of gray doom… 

not entirely true! 

These particular wishes
attached to prayers
have all been 
sent by another
who cares,

and with each
of those breaths,
so many more
seed-wishes
with wings

were launched 
to find where
you are
and rebirth
your dreams.

Turn around and see
the field gifted to you
from me. 

❤

Poem and images ©LauraDenise

The Green Returns


The green returns
as sure as the sun;
the seasons keep spinning,
web-weaved by the One.

There must be a purpose
for the phases of the heart,
like the moon always whole
but only showing certain parts.


Shadows and winter and
stormy weather undesired,
but without feeling the chill,
what would be the motivation
to light the fire? 


What could wake, shake, and
empower my soul
if not for the thunder’s
inciting rolls? 


How could the beacon
so clearly light the way
without the shadowing trees
contrasting and parting
for the ray?


The green returns
as sure as the sun:
my heart turns again
in its revolution. 

Poetry and images ©LauraDenise