Forever Nested

Empty nest
discourages sadness,
too beautifully woven
with flowered wild grasses, 

nostalgic strands of the past
leave the heart
to imagination,
a reminder that love remains
behind in every season,

as well as the next:
from eggs come wings
to independence
to touch for oneself 
the clouds’ edges.

Home, they say, 
is where the heart is, 
and a part of my heart
flies with you and will 
beyond this world’s
and life’s limitations… 

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. 

Holding Photographs

nostalgia bittersweet
joy so genuine, effortless
radiating, echoing
from fading photographs

touched, held between
ringless fingers and the fumes
of a heart on empty
from the moment
so distantly removed

time does not warp
those precious instances
forever suspended
feelings will flutter on
thousands of centuries

bittersweet for the bliss
is eternally retrievable
but if the present is less
then the tears
breach suppressible

falling is the gravity
of sadness, all rain
nature running its course
to cleanse the panes

we simply must
adjust the frames
order the montages
strategically arrange

so when we step back
to take in the collective
the rainbow across
our present
gets light-refracted

Don’t Blink

MyKidsPlayingBasketballLD.png

Don’t blink

or they’ll be grown,

living in different places,

separated by more

than miles,

by the race

of life.

 

Don’t blink

or you’ll miss

realizing this kiss

is the last one

they’ll permit

because they’re too old now

and that’s gross.

 

Don’t blink,

take it in,

a snapshot in your head,

perhaps the last

innocent, naive

grin they’ll have

before the world

gets hold of them.

 

Don’t blink

away the days,

taking for granted

all the ways

they wanted to play

for a while with you

when you had too much

to do.

 

Don’t blink.

But if you do…

 

know that neither time

nor place

could ever erase

the love you graced

nor the memories

you made,

 

and even if they

scrunch up their faces,

kiss them anyway,

no matter their ages,

 

and make a point

of making them smile

because more than ever,

they could probably

use it now,

 

and take the time still

to take time outs

in life to play,

send an airline ticket

their way,

 

and when the tears

of yesteryear start

to fill your eyes,

even if your loved ones

have left this life…

 

Blink.

Slowly.

Find them,

feel them,

in your closed eyes.

 

Blink

the sad tears away.

Let the happy ones

fall.

 

For all they have brought you.

For all they have of you.

 

Blink.

And just like that,

you are reunited again.