Not a Butterfly

Sometimes a heart clings
to a fragment of green
dream as its wings begin
the dying.
I thought it was
a butterfly.

Perhaps butterflies
are dreams reincarnated
in another life,
for those who feared
the letting go
to reach
the height.

Poem and image ©LauraDenise

Chrysalis

Hibiscus past prime,
creation divine,
chrysalis of love
hatched, released
into the light.
Intricate shell
fossilizes secrets;
sometimes what’s
left behind is all
the epitaph needed.

Spring Frosting

Frosted silver-blue in spring
ushers in eucalyptus dreams.
I inhale the heavenly possibilities
wafted through my senses
and altering my inner being,
frosting me with the sweet
scents of what can be
and what can never be lost,
centuries of hope long ago
and perpetually seeded
that spring up each annual season
despite the body’s expiration
sacrificed for the birthing
of eternal angel wings.
Every heart’s whisper,
every tear that ever watered,
becomes a part of me,
as I am a part of each,
all of us connected,
evidenced in these
ambrosial eucalyptus
leaves.

Poem and images ©LauraDenise

Ravaged Nest

mourning dove
the morning after
I will shed the tears
for you, dear lady

I will grieve

but we most both look
to the sun
it rises again
and our lives go on

even without
the physical presence
sometimes of lost ones
we love

the circle of life
contains the dark
and the light

the ultimate joys
the seemingly unrecoverable
losses

no deity induced
things just happen

I believe
He is wrapped
around us
grieving too

but reassuring
He will take them
to a place even more
beautiful

and hold them close
as we, too, will
always do

the sun rises
against mourning dove’s
rooftop silhouette

a reminder
a symbol
that represents

loss and love
will always be
the polar peaks
of life

so closely
intertwined

and whether we
are ready or not,
the sun again
will rise

continuing the
advancement of time

seemingly so long
before we can reunite

but this life
is but a blink
of an eye

and in that downward
motion of that lid
we still have much
love
we can give

to love
is the only way
to truly
live

bright leaf

flaming red fire burns
loud and heatless in the fall–
leaf before the pyre

Poem and image ©LauraDenise

Revolutions

It is inevitable

that a sun must set,

must sink

out of view,

bringing darkness,

signaling that a day

is through.

So it is with the things

that come to pass,

regardless of our will

or grasp;

some things simply

get laid to rest.

But just because

a sun, a heart,

sinks doesn’t mean

there will be nothing

able to rise

from the perceived demise,

for life

continues on,

light and hope

will inevitably rise,

for the circle

of goodbyes-for-now

are inexplicably intertwined

with new hesitant hellos

in divine timelines unknown,

unable to be perceived

from such ignorant perspectives,

for we are all but glorious specks

confused in an organized cosmos.

We don’t see the significance

of the setting sun synchronized

with the rising moon,

for The One who created all of this

did so out of love,

making sure the darkness

never completely covers us.

The light is ever-present

even when we are absent.

There is always something rising

as something else sets.

Even if we fail at the time

to see it.

Trust in a loving, larger

picture.