December Pinks

The pink blooms I never planted
are more beautiful than ever
as I return rejuvenated
to the patio in December.

Autumn has rained
its traditional hues too;
warmth in the setting sun
dries a wet spell of the blues.

I am tickled by the message
of the southern bell for whom it tolls,
waking the possibilities in me
of choosing the way it goes.

I’ll keep growing these pink blooms
even if they get winter-taken,
for I’ve reseeded in my heart
a season of hope to never end.

Upward and Hilltop

upward

a work in progress
perhaps no one should be
for to simply be oneself
should happen effortlessly
it would seem

it’s work for me though
to attempt to undo
the disease seeds
enemy-planted deep
that choke the bloom

contaminating the roots
robbing nutrients
always pulling at
upward movement

i grow my colors
lift my face to the sun
drink the falling waters
offer pollen to everyone

yet i keep coming
undone
keep feeling invisible
tugs

so i work
to break free
from that which
i cannot see
that has this grip
on me

and little by little
with each sinless absolution
i sense each time
another parasitical
root is loosened

directly by my
higher power
and the words
sinking in from
finally believing
my true-lover

feeling lighter
is the way
to the self
i have begun
to realize

to remove
the shackles
of the world
and psyche
to return
the soul
to the
sky

Hilltop

It’s true, I’m blooming.
I hope you can see:
I am blossoming
because your love
has been seeded in me,
and upward is the only
direction I can go
when these internal
whispers of yours
hush the world
so ours are the only
voices I hear
when the storms
return raging from those
traumatic years.
Time need not
be turned back:
unraveling these knots
of old patterns,
we’re perfecting
with practice.
I will do more
than hold on
for with your patience,
I am remembering
more quickly
that this is
the present,
and I am nestled
safely in the nearness
of you
upon the hillside
with the endless view
of anywhere
I wish to go
whilst bringing with me
my found, forever
home.

Poems and images ©LauraDenise

One (Haiku)

I let myself be
in my own secret garden
the one whose touch blooms

Simply Introverted

She fans silken petals,
the softest of shells,
not to be coy, just discreetly
distancing herself,

comfortable cocooned,
guilty of pretense,
privacy preferred
over others’ presence,

never unfriendliness,
just not social;
passions and interests
captivate most when alone.

Tending to her own tendrils,
internal biodome,
nirvana nurtured,
nature, home.

She shows the sides
she chooses;
do not assume
that’s all there is.

No longer fear-restrained:
for the first time,
she fully lives.

She fans silken petals,
simply introverted,
but continuously gifts
translucent colors and
serenity’s scent.

Poem and image ©LauraDenise

Wind and Wings

I will bend to please,
for I put first others’ needs;
overempathy makes me weak.

Forceful winds,
whether intended or not,
push with invisible pressure
until my insides knot.

In opposite direction
of secret desires,
the flight I am put on
with unpurchased ticket
takes me higher

but farther
on false wings
to where I wished to be;
nonetheless, I relentlessly
look for the positives
in my surroundings.

Rock, boulder,
my anchor,
my center,
is never stationary.
I move the mountains
with the strength
of your arms
and my unshakable faith
in the Almighty.

Bent tree.
Flight path.
Criss-crossing trajectories.
I will bend back.
I will disembark.
And wherever that leaves me,
I will find where
the wildflowers are.
And if you pluck them all,
I will water the seeds
in my heart.

I will persevere as me,
no matter how many rounds
I smartly, politely, or wearily
concede.
Each of those fertilize
bloom potentiality.

I will grow my own
wildflower fields
until they rise
out of me.

Remembering Colors

Inner chamber protected,
guarded. Scarred.
Misused and abused
before.
Colors over decades
fade.
Doors and windows
boarded.

The softness of you
like dawn.
Patience watercolors
shared canvas in pastels.
Gradually, I reach
to try some,
apply upon my soft shell.

Day by day, ébauche
to a never-final coat.
Overflowing well within
now self-saturates.
Self-love’s ducts
unclogged.
A Master peace of love:
brought together,
soulmates.

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
beauty.

Single Yellow Bloom

Standing bold and bright
before the woods,
a single yellow bloom…
the contrast stops my shadow;
what a story we’ve stumbled into!

The single yellow bloom
seems larger than the sun
when all alone beaming
against a backdrop
of humdrum.

No other bloom around,
just towering matchstick pines;
the only flame, though, ignited
from a heart of gold
cocooned inside

brave enough
to shine.

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.

Sand Blooms

Sunflower in the sand
is what I strive to be,
an example that you can be
whatever you want to be,

that you can bloom
from your own inner seed
wherever you desire,
despite circumstance,
soil-free,

but my wish for you
is that you will come to see
being you
is the best way to be

for all that you are
was gifted lovingly
by the Ultimate Gardener
before your sprouting
that First Spring,

and no amount of saltwater,
though it may sting,
can prevent you
from achieving your dreams

if in yourself,
you simply believe.
You have what it takes
to set your own self
free.

Raise your chin
to the sun and breathe
the winds of change
dusting off your leaves.

Finally found-home rooted
or adventure-husked by the breeze,
flourish in or find
what makes you truly
happy,
what makes your soul
cheerfully
sing,
what makes you blossom most
naturally.