A Fallen Blossom At Dawn

Another fallen blossom…
like the ones before
in years passed
I photographed
and told stories for.

Each of these moves me
in such profound ways;
what’s underfoot,
what others pass,
stops me in my tracks
with the silent beauty
so profoundly displayed.

For a lifetime, I feel
I could sit and contemplate,
reflect on all the lessons
and secrets it portrays…

This is how I know
I’m different, 
for off the beaten path,
tucked away,
alone in nature
is my happiest place. 

The soft morning light
haloing the fallen lady
bids me pay respect 
and paint legacy allegories.

Not as sad as the last one
I payed homage to, 
(but of course that is influenced 
by my inner untappable currents
and current surface mood,
no doubt, in turn, affected by
the recent tides and moon…)
this fallen beauty, still so poised,
fills me with bittersweet truths,

for we, the best things, this life itself…
all fleeting, all blossoms plucked by breezes
in the grand scheme of it all,
these hundred years if we are lucky
(but who’s to say that’s luck
when we know not
what’s next and beyond;
perhaps those taken early
were needed for something else,
angels only visiting
to help us with ourselves…)
nothing at all, 
a blink in time,
though insignificant
nor the center 
of the universe 
should we feel;
we are each dearly loved,
part of the same mother tree
unseen but a morph of every variety,
the keeper of every seed and leaf
releasing us one by one
into the world 
upon the breezes
in perfectly timed seasons
to root ourselves
until it’s our time
and we are called back again
like this beautiful blossom
having just detached.
I always wonder if it’s 
a leap of faith or
sacrifice or circumstance.

In any event, who could not
ponder the rest of their life
happening upon

a “fallen” blossom
at dawn. 

Poem and image ©LauraDenise


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

Far Side of Flower

My photographer daughter nearby
(with better equipment than mine)
inquires why I would take a photo
of the flower from behind,

and I am a bit surprised,
as she usually gets it intuitively,
my fellow creative with
our shared-way-of-seeing-nature genes…

I didn’t have an answer at the time, 
hard to explain the inner, abstract sensations, 
but as I play with the many images I took, 
some of it lends itself to alphabetic translation…

All stories in nature are wordless,
yet powerful are the messages
granted to the ones who listen,
stay long enough for full transmission,

and as beautiful as each is,
whether tales of love or sorrow,
what good is one side or version
or even chapter when the whole

can never truly be told in full
with so many perspectives
and levels of depth;
to have the layers revealed
comes with degrees of entrustment,

and this particular flower
whispered permission
to let me photograph
the other sides after others
would have moved on and left, 

and it is with this honor
that story then becomes
something impossible to convey
in either written or verbal language,

but oh how that message
pierces the core of my soul 
in such profound truths
we have yet to know… 

No poem could do justice
to such revelations,
nor one photograph or two
with so many facets of 
the single bloom 
so humble in 
His glorious creation. 

Poem and images ©LauraDenise

Bluebell Truths

First among the season’s
blooms of Mexican bluebells,
the sight of the familiar color
already having sprung
the leak in my heart’s well,

so profoundly in its silence
rang such messages of truth, 
its face to the soft, setting sun,
its torn wing-petal too,

so humble,
so beautiful,
a story untold:
inner workings
only through
the gentle,
loving light

We are meant
to fill in the gaps,
each other hold, 
using the same light
harbored in our own

Poem and image ©LauraDenise

Deep in the Thicket

Deep in the thicket,
the beacon seeks and finds,
no seed nor bud
neglected nor lost;
keep faith in the Light. 

Deep in the thicket, 
when the first ray shines, 
no beauty can parallel
the humility and grace,
that relieved reach
for renewed life.

You will be found,
for you were never lost.
God has always been there
tenderly removing thorns
and lovingly healing the loss. 

When that darkness
gets illuminated,
you will see
all the others who
were in the thicket too
who are like you,
and me… 

Sometimes we must
wait patiently for the beam,
but we are never alone,
no matter how it seems,

and that wait, I truly believe, 
is necessary to fully bloom
among the weeds. 

Poem and image ©LauraDenise

Unfurl Your Light

Unfurl your light,
one ray at a time,
no hurry,
for there are plenty
of cloudy days and
star-inspired nights
to regroup strength
in between
the seasons and petals
and dreams.

Keep tenderly nurturing
that inner glowing seed;
no need to even reach
your full potential
this spring –
the journey is in the growing
and the courage developing
to achieve
all you were designed to be:
simply you, bloomed
into belief of your

Poem and image ©LauraDenise

Ladies in White

Pinks, reds, yellows, purples…
take me to where the ivory unfurls

petals reminiscent of celestial wings,
angel-whispers of the purest things,

stories of strength derived from faith,
and tales of troubles confronted with grace.

Bold colors burst forth in the celebration of spring,
but I find myself frozen, soul keenly listening

to the ladies in white, swaying silently;
they draw me in, they speak of peace,

they still my center, and the serenity seeps
through my pores and seeds in me. 

Poem and images ©LauraDenise

Befriending Bumblebees

Befriending bumblebees,
watching cloud-shapes come to life,
making majestic the flowering weeds,
the peace around me seeps in when I am outside.

(See the bumblebee?)

Time may tick, but no manmade clock
interrupts Laura’s la-la land thoughts.
I am one of them, the nature alive in the yard,
no language needed when you are birthed from the stars,
though I do whistle in response to the birds;
in another life, I learned the wordless verses.

Sunlight dances with my frizzy tresses;
soon I will waltz with the summer wind in sundresses. 
I don’t need to go far; just don’t make me go in.
I wish to stay longer as princess in this magical kingdom. 

Poem and backyard images taken today ©LauraDenise