Always Surmountable

©LauraDenise

We are never trapped,
just fated to faulty perspective,
succumb to specious perception;
it’s all relevant, related –

one more rock-move away
from the light 
on the other side
of the avalanche,

one more “wrong” turn
lost in the forest
before hearing
the anabranch…

much is necessarily experienced:

near suffocation sometimes the only way
to motivate a life-saving change,

the legs of the journey
in the humanless woods
lead to the reflection
and feeling of wounds,

and all paths probably have purpose
among the universe’s higher powers.

Without the lonely, looping trails,
we could not emerge anew
with our truest selves

and others we met along the way
not-so-coincidentally placed.

We are never trapped. 
We are never lost. 
At least not for very long. 

No change was ever ignited 
without the spark.
So many opportunities
missed, passed up, though
after being gifted matchsticks
but still refusing to start
the fire. 

Floral Orbit

It’s hard to decipher
which is me, 
which is you, 
when we alternate
positions, both always
as one and the gentlest
of blooms.

Sometimes it is the shadows
that give the needed solace;
in tender loving form, 
one protectively umbrellas
an ecliptic respite.

We are the same:
each crease in the petal
a similar quondam-
but-unable-to-be-forgotten
story, memory,
that will not become
us, 
for our souls’ DNA
seeps from
hearts of gold
and velvet touches,

for all purity
is innocence, 
all white efflorescence,
divine;
pollen an offering
to keep seeding time, 

and ours is upon the horizon, 
finally in sight. 
Let’s keep orbiting there,
as each other’s faith and support,
strength, and hope,
floral lifeline.

Poem and image ©LauraDenise

Gardens Along The Way

Raindrops cling
to Japanese Maple;
Time suspends them
to give way to
Stillness’s held breath…
subtly exhaled
as I pass, as if I were a
royal angel.

Bare feet upon
the cool, smooth stones,
into another potential
garden of myself,
I enter alone,
a blossoming bud
incongruous 
with the shibui growth;
humbly, I pause
to reflect,
but recognize this is also not
my home. 

I continue on
in the directional tug of 
my soul. 

Poem and images ©LauraDenise

Cloudscapes

Without a doubt, 
one of my favorite
parts of life is
clouds.

The soft pastels
at dawn lift me up
and take me home;
sunset-backdropped,
at day’s end,
I am delivered again,
haloed in gold. 

Nature-ensconced, 
nature-infused, 
nature my lifeline,
nature my truth-school.

I befriend every creature and petal,
explore every infinitesimal detail,
lose all track of time in the macro
finding clues about myself, 

but nothing He has made
entrances me more
than the heaven-brushed strokes
of the cloudscapes Earth-adorned. 

For cloudy days, I thank You, Lord! 

Poem and images ©LauraDenise

Beneath The Magnolia Trees

May Day birthday, one to add
genuinely to my scant album

of joyful memories,

as Time bows down to still itself
and lets me live some moments
immortally

beneath the Magnolia trees

that seemed to have waited
for this occasion
to begin their epic blooming.

So dear to me have become
the velvet ivory,
symbolizing hope
and soul purity,

so many seasons dormant,
waiting and waiting
and waiting so patiently
for me to water
the self-love seeds.

The skies reflect their best blues,
the clouds tone down with humility,
the leaves dance with the breeze,
the sun, between, flickers in winks.

I am the center of the universe;
all planets line up to kiss my cheek.
I could stay here, my happiest place ever,
forever in this heavenly garden

of Magnolia trees.

Poem and images ©LauraDenise

In The Eye

Don’t tell me there is no divinity
when I am looking heaven in the eye,
infused with the essence, soul-transfixed, lifted,
swirling upwards as colors become light,

and the ingress solicitously entices the spirit
as form sublimes, shapeshifts until undefined,
and passes through the full transfusion of serenity
through the glowing portal in the after-pouring sky. 

Poem and this evening’s photo ©LauraDenise

Sunrise In The Brass

Sunrise in the brass
unlit lamp,
gold upon gold,
collision of nature
and made-by-man;

the outdoors
reach in.

Sunrise in my heart
leaps up to receive
good morning kiss
upon bashful cheek;

Mother Nature
greets. 

Sunrise cycle,
diurnal darkdrape drawn,
degrees of golden
contingent upon 

perspective-clouds
at dawn. 

Axis-hinged, we all
spin on. 

Concrete Daisies

Concrete daisies 
veiled in silhouette,
shadows upon the crushed,
colorless.

Wind-caressed
nonetheless,
the mood of the kinesthetic,
interpretless,

no witness,
for every glance
is upon the source
hues and scent,

the cast-shadow dance,
musicless. 

I fall into a trance
watching all the ways
the whispered stories 
on the side non-stage
are artistically portrayed
in the concrete-daisy
ballet. 

Poem and image ©LauraDenise

Of Wildflowers

In the texture of petals,
in the lifelines and veins,
I silently read the private stories
in the evaporating, evanescent after-rain. 

In the ones with the audacity 
to rise and bloom where they please, 
defying borders and surviving pesticides, 
I feel myself for the first time breathe. 

In the tiniest, overlooked complexities, 
I scrutinize worlds within,
chosen and privy to the revealing
of the fantastical magic kingdoms.

In the golden-light when the first or last rays
highlight the most delicate paired buds
in their mutual vulnerable opening,
I feel the blessing from the heavens
upon the greatest of humble love
stories unfolding.

In the darkest of thickets, surrounded by thorns,
I witness the miracles of mysticism
when the beacon checks in on the meekest first
faithfully after every storm.

Walk the manmade paths
through the planted gardens:
I will always be watching my step,
one with them, in
the uncharted, shifting lands
of wildflowers.

Poem and images ©LauraDenise