Hummingbird At The Pane

My heart sighed,
the exhale combined
with the incoming uplifting
screened spring breeze;

despite the birdsong,
my eyes welled up,
as I began to walk into
Sadness’s alluring stream…

But my nature friends
and forces always seem
to intervene!

To my pane came
a hummingbird who hovered
until I forgot
all of my soul’s woes

and again felt
Hope’s flutter
and the feeling
of not being
in this world
alone.

Despite it all,
life is truly beautiful
as long as there is
this Presence I feel
so connected to.

Cut me open. I don’t think
I will bleed.
I am sure
butterflies
will rise
out of me

and to the moon,
my essence return,
merging light
to warmly glow
in a belonging
forever.

Beyond The Window

Looking out my bedroom window
a long while, late on a spring day,
opposite weather inside of me,
a seductive swirling veil of gray, 

to choose which to follow,
if either non-path at all, 
takes the breaking of the trance
when both come so subtly to call.

I didn’t wait for the new day;
I chose the remainder at hand,
clipped the leash to the too-excited dog,
laced my sneakers and simply began. 

I let a trickle of hope in
on the way to the pond
to stir the stagnant layer
hovering weightless
but still clouding
my heart.

Perhaps I could find 
beauty or love or both
in my always-open lens 
that filters and feeds
light to soul. 

I did. For it is always there. 
Mother Nature never folds 
her extended arms;
She unconditionally heals,
cares. 

I knew a new day
would soon come
tomorrow, 
and all would 
feel better again, 

but the thing about
choice and action is
that Momentum 
can also be a dear
friend. 

I did not wait for New Day.
I drank the sunset medicine instead. 
It brought me soft romance
and a happy non-end. 

Poem and images ©LauraDenise

Some Days

Full moon
still hides
parts of itself
from view.

Wildflowers
don’t always feel
like opening
up to bloom.

Not all
birdsongs
can be
cheerful tunes.

Stars may not
get to every
wish they accrue.

Some days
the water
vapor is unable
to make itself
cloud-plumes.

Seasons
of the heart
insist a sunny poet
take a respite
in the shade,

but earth shifts
and turns
and always brings
another new day.

Poem and images ©LauraDenise

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

Stroke of a Petal

Yellow petals
slowly unfurl
with inner bravery,
but the natural
gravity
to feel
encourages 
the lean.
We all need. 
We all long
for a touch. 
Even the warmth
of a ray
from the faraway
sun:
it assures
if we open up,
raise our faces
to receive, 
even long-distance
affection 
can be brushed
against 
our cheeks. 
Bloom to bloom, 
bloom to stalk, 
bloom to jagged, sharp edges:
it is all 
love. 

Poem and image ©LauraDenise

Let Me

Let my honeyed-elixir voice
in your left ear
reach down to the raw & scarred
present and past tears,

those rips in the abyss
of the soul:
let this touch caress
and these words slowly dripped
from my lips
coat.

I know
each deep,
dry-well fissure
all too well:
let me stitch you
with these
golden threads
like I’ve sewn
myself

and fill you
with the feel
of liquid hope.
Let it
overflow.

Lay down your armor
beside mine,
undress so I
may dress
the wounds
unable to be healed
by Time.

You are safe
tonight.
Let me take care
of you
until the return
of Light.


Poem and image ©LauraDenise

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