Poet. Writer. Photographer.
Beside them the birds of the heavens dwell; they sing among the branches.
Psalm 104:12
Emerging from tepals,
I simply listen
to the birds’
morning songs
before the wakening
and bustle
of the world
in which we both
belong,
before the sun itself
beats its rays down;
thank you, Lord,
for the gradual
transitions
and living Psalms.
Poem and image ©LauraDenise
Across the street from the ocean,
I reside,
at my everyday disposal
are the almighty tides,
the aquahorizon
with no opposite end
that blends with the sky,
no greater reminder
of the bigger picture
beyond this life,
and it does indeed
soul-energize,
but I’ve always known
the humility
of how insignificant we are:
I seek instead
the intimate inner warmth
I find crouched among
the non-garden flowers
inspecting the finest details
neglected and trodden,
and through my lens and art,
I depict how they feed
my heart,
shared roots and seeds
organically free
yet universally tied,
turning our faces
peacefully
to the shared light,
the Higher Power
who sculpted us both, all,
with intention and without
society-judged flaws,
precision in individuality,
every living piece
lovingly kneaded,
and when the rays
find and kiss petals,
this is the beauty
that stills me
breathless,
to see in crafted detail
the miracles of His Creation
and how love was meant
to prevail in every season.
Poem and images ©LauraDenise
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.
Open road gently unfolds,
morning stretches
between sheets of grandiose.
In excited anticipation,
my heart leaps up at every curve
as the sun rises in all its glory
and slowly churns
hues so bold and beautiful,
highlighting the rolling hills
of clouds –– windows down,
hair blown, coffee in hand,
and hours to go.
I will never mind an open road,
man-laid black carpet
leading into the natural horizon
beneath God’s effulgent throne.
Poem and image ©LauraDenise
Tropical paradise fans its greens at me,
draws me so teasingly out with camera to play;
too modest usually, I let my ego go
to freely compose with total control the frames.
Sun knows its among my favorite subjects
and extends its rays for me to pose;
I do bow in reverence, low to the ground
before immortally storing gifts so graciously bestowed.
Magnolia waves, knowing her place in my heart;
I practically skip over, slip under her glossy canopy,
excited for her next batch of pre-petal tepals
to be rebirthed into another spring.
Palms sway, brushing the blue above
as wisps of white clouds lightheartedly swirl in;
some days were simply created perfectly
by The Greatest Artist and so selflessly gifted.
Poem and images ©LauraDenise
I stop kissing you
all over
with the arrival
of those colors,
that fleeting burst
of wonder
to remind us of our
benevolent Creator.
The sky erupts
in pastels and light;
the windows get tinted,
so I fly outside.
By the hand
and heart,
still connected,
you follow suit,
smiling topless
in your jeans.
The light reflects
off my evergreen
irises.
You say it’s hard
to tell which is brighter
when my eyes are affixed
on the horizon,
but even you
succumb to it:
the moments of glory,
the magnificence,
and just like that,
the day descends,
and we resume
our sweet indulgence:
lips dancing
beneath the stars
that wink between
themselves
about the lovers
they brought together
by aligning
when He finally gave the nod
in the timing…
Poem and unedited sunset ©LauraDenise
Something there is
in a soul’s composition
that personalizes light
from the connecting threads;
in the weave of mine,
part my art and part divine,
seems to be for the grandiose
some kind of rare blindness
in the mainstream sense,
for I only find it
in the minute and steeped in
mindfulness,
the larger picture
always blurred and muted,
unacceptably-by-society
dismissing sweeping views;
upon deaf eyes, the waterfalls,
for my soul only hones in on single drops,
the silhouette of an insect’s wings
even beyond the forefront flowering.
Too far away are the large and obvious;
I slip into the inconspicuous,
secret portals and nooks
that scan my soul
and recognize me in my
slow and scenic way home.
Don’t take me to the lookout point;
take me to the mountain where I can climb
to admire all the wonder along the trail.
The view at the top can never be the peak:
for me it can only be
in the little things.
You can hike with me
if you have the patience,
for a mile in nature
won’t get you fit,
but if you’d like to sit
awhile beside me,
I wouldn’t mind
the company,
but no attention would I be able to give you
when the sun sets on a solitary bee upon a pink bloom…
Poem and image ©LauraDenise
Destination to nowhere,
traversing on foot,
no longer running away,
just enjoying the non-route
and what blooms
from roots wildly seeded
and the textures
of the season
and infinite skies
ever shape-shifting
like my thoughts
and the way I get lost
far away in them.
Dusk hushes.
Frogs belt out.
Alert for bears
and human predators,
I turn toward home
and the portal of color
gradually closes.
My feet return to pavement,
having being lowered
back to reality
which, these days,
is equally rewarding.
Outside in the mornings
and in the evenings,
essential to my emotional
well-being.
I can’t imagine
not being gifted
this amazing, tranquil
creation.
Thank you, Lord,
for the free and natural
cure-all medication.
In my backyard,
beneath the stars,
I continue my wandering
contemplations…
Poem and image ©LauraDenise
How many stories
can there be in petals?
How long can I remain
unfound in the meadow?
How can the same patch of land
be so ever-changing?
How many more potential bad days
can Mother Nature keep preventing?
How is it that I am the only one bearing witness
to so much magic on a daily basis?
How much longer can the toad’s eye keep me entranced?
And the intricate details in the anatomy of insects?
How much time has passed in that outside world
while I sit among the birds and squirrels?
How is it that nonhuman friends have become so underrated?
And introverts given such a hard time for avoiding socialization?
My colleagues are ordering their second round of drinks.
I confirm with the waiter, “Just water for me.”
Torturous are the hours I prove I’m not an island!
(What’s a few white lies to protect my safe-haven?)
A dragonfly stops by to wink at me,
shows off how he can fly away so freely into the breeze…
The conversation continues. I do not join in.
Release me back into the wild where I fit in…
Poem and images ©LauraDenise
The things we edit…
When it comes to my photography, editing to me is not perfecting, so I suppose I should call it altering; it is transforming creatively the tone, literarily, though that often comes from color changes, cooling or warming, fading or imbuing, really a canvas with my technology as the brush, though you would be surprised with the media I use, an old iPhone about to give out and whatever standard editing app it came with.
My lab is my mind’s eye in reverse, creating what my soul wishes to express, I but a medium myself. I play until the aha moment, always knowing that is exactly what I was looking for. Each starting photo, a message itself I collect from nature. Sometimes it speaks as is, especially when it is lit. Sometimes it lends itself, whispers, “Do with me what you may, May Child; my metamorphism is in your trusted hands. Make me the more you believe I am.”
Sometimes I feel the nature challenges me in this way to keep going beyond and beyond, rebirthing new ways, not godlike, but godchildlike, spending my days attune to the spirit in the petals and breezes, in the rays and the blades, in the insect and the web. I create with images I creatively capture, crouched down and over the barely noticed, shrinking further than Alice into the macroworld, still infused with wonder, perhaps even more so. With each alteration, a new message, perhaps divinely inspired.
I do my duties in the world so I can retreat––into the yard, into myself, into the absence of voices except my inner one and the whispers from butterflies and the birdsong, and I listen and listen for The One as I visit my many companions of the natural realm. Often, I bring heaven down. To earth. Though I find enough evidence that it is already here. All about us. And as much as I avoid the humans, I know the greatest purpose here is to love one another. My purpose the same but from afar. Bringing light and hope to you is how I try to do my part.
The things we edit…
Often, in relation, we edit by removing blemishes, by cropping out all the real, showcasing our best fake versions of ourselves and our lives, for behind the cameras lie the whole truths. We compete. We turn the cameras around onto the shells of our selves, lose the nature and others, snapshots of ourselves as the universe’s center, lenses in reverse yet outward, for our inner selves are not the focus.
There are pieces of heaven in each of us. Because we were each made the way He intended. What we make of ourselves from what we were given: that is the welcomed art of continued collaborative creation. Excavate the light within. Keep painting with your truest inner discovered colors. We should never settle for being done when we are each and all continued masterpieces in progress. May we never fade permanently to sepia or still life; though both of these are essential to the process.
I still believe we can beautifully alter all of this…
All words and images on this site ©LauraDenise
Laura Denise 