Drifting

Blue skies seem sometimes
behind us too far,
and when the oasis of nearness
dissipates into illusion
yet again,
we dangerously tire,

as the colors of hope
fade
like sidewalk chalk
in the rain,
and we drift
without care
into the storm.

But as long as there are
forks and bends
in the paths and roads,
what-ifs and depends,
Fate can only temporarily take
hostages,

for choice and circumstance
and weather will permit
the opportunities
to change direction
over and over again;
only lack of faith
can lead to the
false perception
of dead-ends.

Sometimes when we are
too weary to drive,
another takes the wheel:
sometimes God,
sometimes Satan,
sometimes someone
who loves you still.

Poem and images ©LauraDenise

Simply Love

The purpose of life, the meaning,
has always been crystal clear to me,
never has a non-mystery
been more obvious and accessible:

to love
is the reason
and the miracle,

to be gifted hearts and souls
to find others on the way
home.

Who will you bring?
Who will you pass over?
Remember the Savior
may be the homeless
or aborted,
the silent one
in the corner,
the one deemed
a misfit, different,
deformed.

Each created
from love,
each loved
from above,
each returned
after this
to the metamorphic,
body-molted
non-shape of
love.

The purpose of life, the meaning,
has always been laid out:
Love thy neighbor.
Love thy spouse.
Love thy enemy.
Love thy self.

May we love
the children,
first and foremost.

Wish Depletion

No wishes for you;
they’ve all been used –
all that’s left,
dark silhouettes
on a backdrop
of gray doom…

not entirely true!

These particular wishes
attached to prayers
have all been
sent by another
who cares,

and with each
of those breaths,
so many more
seed-wishes
with wings

were launched
to find where
you are
and rebirth
your dreams.

Turn around and see
the field gifted to you
from me.

❤

Poem and images ©LauraDenise

Parking Lot Thoughts

Turn not a blind eye upon
the beauty that surrounds;
sometimes you simply must
expend a bit of effort to

seek it out.

There is never a beauty drought.
Look about!

In a grocery store parking lot,
for you, I frame this bouquet,

non-bought,

to send you a wordless reminder
of my love,

to remind you are dearly
thought of,

desiring that the white-petaled hope
could be a moment that lingers in
cheering you up.

I will never stop
sowing in you these seeds
of my love

in eternal spring,
whispering
for your dimples again to

blossom.