The Little Things

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

Destinationless

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

Release Me

How many stories
can there be in petals?


How long can I remain
unfound in the meadow?

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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

Dynamic Art

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

Cobwebs Between Petals

Ninety-three million miles away,
yet upon the cobwebs of a flower,
Sol’s ray reaches, haloes, frames. 

How powerful
that gentle, golden beam is
when it finds and reminds us our
insignificance

is more important and personal
than we think it to be,
for the Creator made sure
the cold and darkness 
would always have
returning light and heat.

We are turned away each evening,
in a rotation beyond our control,
perhaps to make possible
the continuous rebirthing
of new-day gratitude and hope,

to make possible these moments
that universally lift up our gazes,
to freeze-frame and coat in gold
these nuggets of humble
beauty appreciation, 

like cobwebs on a flower
that still me with revelation:
in the tapestry and labyrinth of life,
we are woven and connected
by hidden common thread,
and love could always,
then and now, 
win. 

Poem and images ©LauraDenise

Cloudscapes

Without a doubt, 
one of my favorite
parts of life is
clouds.

The soft pastels
at dawn lift me up
and take me home;
sunset-backdropped,
at day’s end,
I am delivered again,
haloed in gold. 

Nature-ensconced, 
nature-infused, 
nature my lifeline,
nature my truth-school.

I befriend every creature and petal,
explore every infinitesimal detail,
lose all track of time in the macro
finding clues about myself, 

but nothing He has made
entrances me more
than the heaven-brushed strokes
of the cloudscapes Earth-adorned. 

For cloudy days, I thank You, Lord! 

Poem and images ©LauraDenise

Everyday Gold

Golden upon golden, 
liquid light layers, 
how much more obvious 
can it be that there is a
heaven and
already among us?

Upon the dark and blank
canvas, 
with tender and loving
brushes, 
He stroked us
into existence
and all
that surrounds us,

has never left us,
and reminders 
each day, 
He has rise
from the earth
and others’
divine parts,
in likeness made,
which we should
reverently celebrate 
and feel blessed by
every day.

Poem and images ©LauraDenise

Far Side of Flower

My photographer daughter nearby
(with better equipment than mine)
inquires why I would take a photo
of the flower from behind,

and I am a bit surprised,
as she usually gets it intuitively,
my fellow creative with
our shared-way-of-seeing-nature genes…

I didn’t have an answer at the time, 
hard to explain the inner, abstract sensations, 
but as I play with the many images I took, 
some of it lends itself to alphabetic translation…

All stories in nature are wordless,
yet powerful are the messages
granted to the ones who listen,
stay long enough for full transmission,

and as beautiful as each is,
whether tales of love or sorrow,
what good is one side or version
or even chapter when the whole

can never truly be told in full
with so many perspectives
and levels of depth;
to have the layers revealed
comes with degrees of entrustment,

and this particular flower
whispered permission
to let me photograph
the other sides after others
would have moved on and left, 

and it is with this honor
that story then becomes
something impossible to convey
in either written or verbal language,

but oh how that message
pierces the core of my soul 
in such profound truths
we have yet to know… 

No poem could do justice
to such revelations,
nor one photograph or two
with so many facets of 
the single bloom 
so humble in 
His glorious creation. 

Poem and images ©LauraDenise

Love’s Melody

More sister soul sharing…

I just connected with this beautiful soul through Instagram. I have made very few connections through IG, but they sure are among my most spiritually impactful. This song is just one of those that simply strokes like a harp my soul, brings up tears from wells too far deep within to stir the waters any other way than through music and song. (Wow to composer Tash Nidai!) 

https://youtu.be/BILR3-CR7Cw

I have found myself replaying this song in the very early morning hours. I thought not only must I share it with you but see what dance my fingers would perform over the keyboard of my laptop here in the dark…

I find since experiencing true love for the first time in my life, and what I feel to be the purest and highest love possible between souls, such songs slip gracefully through, weave in and out of, my soul as love songs about both him and Him. Because they are so similar to me, when God blesses you with the one to love you as He does.

So I feel this song as I walk alone through a field of wildflowers in a flowing dress, running my fingers along the natural growth, arms open like wings, sun kissing me, grateful for His beautiful gifted creation that is such a part of me. I feel this song as I think of the one who loves me; no words can touch upon the feelings, but words set to the most beautiful music sung by a most beautiful voice, poetry set to music…it’s more than I can do to try to convey it as simply a poet. Lastly, I feel this song as a sad but still beautiful one, thinking about those who have lost the love of their life for now, how such love simply lives on and can carry us through until we connect again. Here are my photos and poem inspired by this song… 

At the spring
of our eternal love,
white spring flowers
bloom from the trees.

My weightless soul,
though still 
embodied,
flies with the birds
above the sea.

Bare feet sink
into the endless heavens of
the warm, white, sugar sand
as your natural sweetness
transmits through
my open hand,

Upon my soft cheek,
a tear rests,
tenderly clinging,
not wanting to part
from the kiss.

In a garden
of white bell-blooms,
only the breeze
rings through me
with supreme truths.

These are the ways
I feel your love,
my God and my soulmate;
the love from you both
fills and lifts me,
beyond depth and height.

Love is best measured
by lightness and light. 

Poem and images ©LauraDenise.

It is the Sky

Awesome and tranquil Sea
soothes me, strokes me with peace…

The Mountains huddle protectively
and I feel snug in the middle of their majesty…

The Woods beckon me to wander endlessly,
enchanted by flickering sunbeams between trees….

Unsurpassed beauty in the petals’ intricacies,
I hesitantly unfurl with the Flowers delicately…

But of all of the nature in gifted creation,
nothing captures my heart quite like the heavens,

the glimpses of paradise where angels reside,
looking down on us, their love reaching with light.

It is Sky that makes my heart leap the most,
can’t take my eyes off of; it’s entranced my soul.

The clouds carry my every dream and hope,
and one day, will lovingly carry me home.