Amidst and Between

Amidst the thorns,
beneath the wounds,
we can take turns
bringing self-love
to bloom,

we’ll smooth
the edges
so raw and jagged,
each lend the silk
of virgin petals

birthed in kisses
and gentle touches,
countering the poisons 
of previous “gardeners”
with ill-intentions,
fencing us from 
freedom.

We’ll remain
faithful companions,
take turns in the cycle
of taking and giving,

in sun and shadow,
through every internal
season and weathered vane.

We’ll simply heal
and learn
what love is,
together
the right way

until we both
blossom white,
centers exposed
to feel 
the cleansing 
rain. 

Love will 
beget love
which will 
beget love
to spread.

It begins
with us.
It begins 
within. 

Poem and images ©LauraDenise

Mission Depletion

Overcasting the heart,
the plagued cloud
drew color and life;
eruption ensued,
torn from the burst
deep inside.
The salt rained
on the open wounds.
The gray swooped in, 
attempted final ruin. 

But a survivor returned
from his own
near entombment,
kissed petal lips
to restore the hues, 

and love rushed in again
to ignite the blooms,
imbued with goodness
the only truth.

The excess overflowed,
flooded the world,
infused each connecting branch,
bled the colors to combat 
all hopelessness. 

The gray cloud retreated.
Only depression was depleted. 

Beloved, let us love one another, because love is of God; everyone who loves is begotten by God and knows God. Whoever is without love does not know God, for God is love. (1 John 4:7-8)

We love because he first loved us. (1 John 4:19)

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

Resilient Hearts

I am NOT a gardener.
Though a gardener I’ve never tried to be…
Every natural wonder I’ve ever encountered
has been there before me, 
remnants from previous tenants’ tastes
and sculptures wild and free
lovingly planted in my path
by the Creator Almighty
and meant at the time of discovery
to be the personal messages needed. 

And so it is with my hibiscus pinks, 
cut down to the ground by the men
so they could build a fence more easily. 
Flowers dear to me for the way they so faithfully
after such meaningful moments took turns blooming
to mark the milestones in my healing,
to commemorate the special blessings,
to symbolize with such humble beauty
the changing seasons within me. 

In the soft, golden morning rising sun, 
they lift themselves again to greet me. 
Not defiantly. Just filled with inspiration. 
An example. A reunion. A smiling. 
I approach and spend some moments 
I do not have according to clock and duty. 
The buds seem from an extra-long green
hibernation to be defrosting, thawing.  
I know what lies inside. The knowing
denies mystery but does not anticipation-impede.

My heart does indeed too beat again,
my dear friends. 
They can never cut short
our aspiring stories. 

Poem and images ©LauraDenise

Tears and Tears (Triple Haiku)

fresh spring rain on green
salty drops clinging to cheeks
all water cleanses

tears and tears the same
heteronyms for the pain
one dries, one remains

tears and tears post-storm
one can let the light reach through
one can bloom from love

Poems and images ©LauraDenise

More of my haiku and nature photography on Instagram! https://www.instagram.com/bylauradenise/

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

Heart-Buds in Spring

A neighborhood walk
to marvel in the arrival
of spring:
just what I needed.
My furry companion, too, 
raises his face
to the fresh breeze. 

Trees and planted bushes
in people’s private yards
bloom in unison with
the wildflowers on vacant lots,

for heart-buds in spring
cannot help but burst
when the harbingers arrive
and announce it’s finally time

for rebirth.