Hope Is A Red Balloon (With Audio)

Hope is a red balloon.
To dream is to release,
To let the heart again believe:
Benediction granted wings.

Hope is a red balloon.
To fear is to release.
Self-shackling to the ribbon needed
For freedom to be achieved.

Hope is a red balloon.
But with passenger and knapsack attached,
It becomes the passageway
Between spirit-death and life hatched.

Hope is a red balloon
That may burst at any moment
Over deep, dark uncharted waters
With drowning a likely occurrence.

Hope is a red balloon.
Faith is to ride it into the winds
Knowing the trajectory
Is calculated and adjusted
by Him,

Delivering to safety,
Granting the dream.
Because you held fast
To Hope’s string.

Poem and image and recitation ©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.

Seashell Ifs

Oh, Great Coral Conch Shell by the seashore,
if I whisper you my secrets, will you share with me yours?

If I tell you what I think about these mysteries to be true,
will you reveal nuances subtly as clues?

If I sat here still and listened attentively,
would you tell me adventurous sea stories of all that you’ve seen?

If I wanted to have a word with Triton, King of the Sea,
would you be able to send for the mermaids to transport me?

If I put you in my pocket to add to my collection,
would you lose your magic so far inland?

Most of all, I was wondering this…
Do forgive me if it is simply too presumptuous…

If I sent a message to him in a bottle, but the winds interfered,
would you find him for me and whisper this into his ear…?