Shared Trains

I’ve ridden
on the same trains
as you
over these eternal years, 
collecting the paintings
of your words
in my album
held dear.

When you board,
a sense of comfort
always hugs my soul
even without eye contact
or any vocalized hello.

Somehow, I feel
you know me, though,
while respecting
my poor attempts at
incognito.

Always at night,
we ride, reading
each other;
sometimes I ride
moonbeams
to stay near
when you depart,

hovering at the open window,
turning to respect your privacy
after the last line
of your poem
falls off
sensually. 

My spirit knows yours
from some other life or realm;
I’ve counted on you
to always be there
as I travelled through each
lonely world. 

Today, the universe
was all out of whack,
for when you boarded,
you replied back

to the thoughts
I did not think were said.
A rose you left,
my name spoken,

thornless
and seeded 
as you sat
beside,
chatting away
to my smile
and starry eyes

until it was our 
independent stops.
No sins today,
but my heart felt
your pulse.  

Aforementioned

There is no greater feeling
(other than love, and perhaps forgiveness)
than the way the heavens
ever so slowly open
in the last of the
fading rumbles,
parting clouds
to reveal nothing more
than the forgotten,
that supreme is
all, above and beyond this,
that we never were alone
through any of it;
it makes me almost wish

for another storm…

I realize that this is
that love and forgiveness
aforementioned
taking form.

This is how inner
peace is born.

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Poem and images ©LauraDenise

Tears Dry (With Audio)

tears dry
like rain subsides
weather a part of nature
designed with intent
by our Creator

feelings, emotions
love and joy
despair and heartache
all part of what
deems us alive

would you trade it all in
for numbness instead?

if you already did
what could bring you back
from the breathing-dead?

perhaps a lot of it
comes from our own doing
and neglect

how many times we must
get in the way of His plans!

His plans for each
never carved in stone
I do not believe
for fate takes away free will
and free will shackles and frees

these pains must too
have a purpose
maybe more than a force
forming us

these tragedies…
who is to say
the why until
it is revealed one day

it is the blind eye
that is turned
rather than the cheek

that I think each
must explain
for admittance
through the gates

will He play back the footage
what will He deem as the highlights
will they match with what we think
we’ve done to please with our lives?

tears dry
like rain subsides
even the sky
cries sometimes

Poem and image ©LauraDenise

Nature Nurtured

toad-eye entrancement
needed memory-loss spell
forgetting those woes 

Forlorn I was,
but Nature won’t have it
for long, 
always intercepting, 
knowing the sure-fire ways
to illicit my dimples;
this time, 
in an unused planter,
my own fairy garden
to behold,

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and if that wasn’t enough, 
the realization 
it was a family 
portraying love. 

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Funny how I always see
the romance between 
two fungi touching

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and how there doesn’t seem 
to be such a thing
as a mushroom 
without the merry,
underfoot fairy
tales in toadstools,
though they wouldn’t actually hold
a toad unless they were magical,
but then again, I am the biggest
believer in that, after all…

unexpected growth
merry mushroom family
unplanted smile sprouts

Faithfully, my family
out-of-doors
takes care of me  
whenever I start to feel
forlorn. 

And my pup, of course.

Poems and images ©LauraDenise

Gravitational Falls

We all fall. Sometimes.
It’s inevitable. Natural.
Stumbles and knockouts
along the way.
Bumps and potholes,
from obstacles and pitfalls, 
All paved roads, manmade. 

No wonder we get lost. 
We make through-streets
when we are meant to meander
on foot, following brooks
and the day-star beacon
through the trees. 

I believe it lights
a different direction
for each. 

Newton’s laws are really
a Universe thing, 
term ego-coined by humanity,
but even that which 
has no momentum to soar,
has never been granted
the boost or breeze,
seems to fall
with a harder thud
from crawling.

Perhaps the greatest
and most needed fall
is the one to our knees,
when we give it all 
up and let Him 
take the lead. 

Perhaps in that moment
we are granted our wings. 

But in that excitement,
will we remember
to fall silent and still 
enough to feel our soul’s 
gravitational pull?

We can now go anywhere
the heart leads.
This time I will stay away
from the paved
and listen to the whispers
of the wildflowers
and leaves. 

I feel your heart
out there
gravitating toward
me. 

As Me

“I do not ever want you
to stop being you. Please,”
you said to me, 
as you always do, 
but this time,
finally,
you got through

after such patience
in teaching me
how to love 
myself
and never once
being anything
but kind 
and understanding
as I repeatedly 
fell 

on my face,
tripping over
how unnecessarily
 x      l     m     c
     e     p      o 
I insist on making
everything
with this
overthinking.

It seemed
nothing I could do
could turn you away, 
you love me as me
you would just
repeatedly and
unconditionally
say.

Behavior is learned
and unlearned –
patterns of thinking
broken and made,
strategies 
for slaying
or keeping
the ghosts
at bay.

My fears
rooted in
shifting terrains,
unable to be grasped, 
somehow you managed
one by one
by one
to vanquish 

with your insistence
that I just give up
and be me;
the biggest fear
of them all 
you conditioned 
me to release
by showing
in your every word
and deed

I would not only be
completely accepted
but also loved deeply
for simply being

who I am. 

I finally concede. 
I will love me too
as me. 

Poem and images ©LauraDenise

See Past Shells

You are not broken.

We all have our chips,
scabs and scars,
stories hidden,

the search and strive
for perfect,
itself a myth;

you are perfect
as is,

each soul a treasure,
measured not by appearance
or the illusion of wholeness,

for we are equally complete
when love washes over us

for no shell is enclosed,
though we shrink within,

open and in rotation,
vulnerable hearts
search for a fit.

The ocean knows
and sings the wisdom:

each of us beautiful,
not just enough,
but the only one for another
and in God’s hands, cupped. 

Poem and images ©LauraDenise

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. 

Poem and images ©LauraDenise

The Reins

I have walked through the Valley of Doubt.
I have collapsed in the Alley of Shadows. 
I have crawled through the Desert of Despair.
I have cried at the dry Fountain of Repair. 

I have risen from my knees bedside from prayer, 
still feeling alone, His presence not there, 
but every time I’ve started to cry myself to sleep, 
His hand alone has dried my tears. 

I have returned from the valley with stronger faith. 
I have returned from the alley with gifted rays. 
I have returned from the desert with a map to the oasis.
I have returned from the fountain with a reflection
of never having been broken. 

I walk in the light. I raise my face to the rain. 
Stronger than ever. Fading pain. 
He is with me every step, every day. 
He always was. I got in the way.