Seasons Within

Shades of bright pink–
magenta, fuchsia, cerise–
through a sea of gray, peek,
a reminder that soon it will be spring.

In the shroud of fog and mist
that seems to perpetually persist, 
nature refuses to statically subsist;
every cloud will again disperse or lift.

Time was constructed with the condition of motion 
with clauses that require stages of hibernation;
every living thing needs rest and recuperation.
Time ticks on at the same rate; speed is but perception.

Fill the moments wisely with balance,
tenderly caring for each personal aspect.
Mind, body, and soul are both one and separate;
each undergo necessary, natural occurrences.

Embrace each season that inevitably occurs;
even the cold, the dark, the thorns, the spurs
have their purpose in the slows and the stirs.
We are nature within, designed this way by our Creator.

This too shall pass: it’s happening for a reason. 
Let’s not be in a hurry for every next season. 
This moment now is infused with more than you can know.
We are not meant to understand, only to continue to evolve,

to grow. 

We will reach the sun when we are meant to. 
Side by side or entwined, let us together bloom. 
No hurry, no need to be bold;
we can take our time, be led by

the whispers of our souls. 

Poem and images ©LauraDenise

The Reins

I have walked through the Valley of Doubt.
I have collapsed in the Alley of Shadows. 
I have crawled through the Desert of Despair.
I have cried at the dry Fountain of Repair. 

I have risen from my knees bedside from prayer, 
still feeling alone, His presence not there, 
but every time I’ve started to cry myself to sleep, 
His hand alone has dried my tears. 

I have returned from the valley with stronger faith. 
I have returned from the alley with gifted rays. 
I have returned from the desert with a map to the oasis.
I have returned from the fountain with a reflection
of never having been broken. 

I walk in the light. I raise my face to the rain. 
Stronger than ever. Fading pain. 
He is with me every step, every day. 
He always was. I got in the way.

The Journey

The journey, they say, 
is in itself the key;
I’ve been down
every wrong road
multiple times
it seemed,

but to surface, 
I wish I could say unscathed, 
with the treasure of me
in this mirror 
now held
sacred, 

I’m hesitant 
to lay blame
on my past,
for who I am
was definitely shaped
by every shadowed,
obstacle-strewn
path, 

and the key
that ended up being me
fits perfectly
into the lock
around your heart; 

I look forward
to every step
we now get to take
together,
journeying to meet our Matchmaker,
hand in hand,
to that eternal
start. 

Poem and image ©LauraDenise

Window Shells

Out of body, I float through time, 
hover unaccompanied, no ghost as guide; 
nonetheless, through windows I peer,
Dickens-paned, layered veneers.

Yet in them, in those moments, 
the mise-en-scènes are still amiss–
a faraway look, a laugh insincere, 
a single, silent unwitnessed tear–

not necessarily sad, just adrift; 
have I never settled into my prints?
My soul, a gypsy, but wishing to barter–
tent for cabin, canoe for harbor.

My life does not flash before my eyes,
for this person, I barely recognize;
experiences play out, acts with multitudes of ends,
the quilt more mishappen-patched than threaded.

So many past lives I’ve lived and died within this one, 
so many false dawns that made me suspect the sun,
yet through it all, in this saga of my non-selves, 
I walk the beaches of my past and collect the treasures

beneath and between the shells 

and place them on the sunny sills of my present,
the true dawn of the genesis of me
that began when you kissed me into living
and finally led me home into my awaited dreams. 

The Tiller

Trust in the shadows;
they are benevolent too,
dimming the wrong ways
so the beacon may shine through.

Listen for the truth;
it whispers faithfully through the gale.
Turn your back to the blustery lies;
the bitterest of winds best fill the sails.

You don’t need a map
for an evacuation route;
just follow the signs
He’s already laid out.

He knows all,
including what’s up ahead.
Listen for The Light;
drown out the ghost voices
haunting your head.

You took the steps.
You left that land.
These turbulent waters
will lead to the end

of that decades-long storm
that shredded every kite you raised
that lightning struck
on its way down
to reiterate
that you will never
be freed from this fate.

But fate was a falsity
and now you will know
that destiny
is all within
your control,

and He wants you to have
all your heart desires.
He will lead you there
through these uncharted waters,

but He wants your hands
on the tiller
to feel
the power you have
that He instills.

He calls upon the winds
and every fin in the sea
to escort you on your voyage to
your chosen dreams.

Poems and photos ©LauraDenise

Dandelions This Time

I am sooooooo excited and honored to have my dear blogging friend, dragonfly-whisperer/photographer, and fellow believer, Mike Powell, recite my latest poem! This is a very special poem to me and to have a special-to-me person recite it makes me a bit teary… Thank you, Mike! Please do pay Mike a visit to enjoy his nature stories and photos at Mike Powell: My Journey Through Photography here on WordPress. 

Sprouted from past tears
that saturated the buried
teeth of lions,
lies that rotted,

but underground,
those roots reached
blindly for a dream
in the suffocating darkness,
light faith-felt
not yet seen;

we forged through
lifetimes of winter
determined we too
deserved to find
in our hearts that
spring,

strained to hear
the birds sing,
to inch upward
when strength allowed,

recovering each time
any lost ground
from sinking,
from pressures
above

that could only
hold us down
for so long,

could only
depress us
so many inches
as we gripped
the dirt
and resisted.

I think it was
the feeling
that you were 
near,

reaching yourself
for something unclear,

but both of us
persisted
in breaking
earth

to breathe 
the air
of any season,

to feel
on our faces
the warmth;

finally
our time came,
double golden-crowned
and kissed goodbye
by Fate,

released
to freedom
on the same day,

never knowing
if our parallels
brought us
side by side,

but the sight
of you
upon my eyes
was no chance
but the gift
of a Gardener
divine.

Survivors
continuing 
a shared story,

memories 
of the season
before
eternal winter
return as familiar 

as the stars.

We will live
until we together
embrace
the next season,
and when our stems break
and we are but seeds 
again 
in the breeze,
my darling, 
this time,
we will not 
be separated
by anyone or
anything. 

Poem and images ©LauraDenise

Four Seasons on a Saturday

Four seasons on a Saturday
I set out to find in my backyard
in the South in February
an adventure just beyond the door…

On a large unmanicured lot,
there is much to explore;
nary a blade is out of place
under the neighbor’s meticulous order.

First I found the burst of winter,
a perfect snowflake poised for me;
I zoomed in to capture best I could
all of its fluffy, white intricacies.

The second to call to me
(I think I heard them giggle!)
were the merriest, fantastical sprites
sprouting the most magical details!

I knew Autumn was STILL
stubbornly refusing to leave,
but this perfectly two-toned Christmas leaf
delighted me so with its rarity!

Summer suns shone here and there,
but those dandelions were not new…
the yellow on the invasive vines though
decided today to make their debut!

Four seasons on a Saturday,
photo challenge for one complete.
I defied the prescribed mood
the gray day dared to cast upon me!