Dress Pockets

Over the years, I’ve collected
the best fragments
from the jagged breaks
of the past,
revisiting the scenes
after the immediate threats
have into ashes passed.

When the sun faithfully returns,
each ray seems to gently lead,
reflecting in intermittent beams,
to rebuild resilient dreams,

refracted off each of these
gorgeous shards of glass.
I add to these, the heartifacts
unearthed from avalanche

and dug up from old spots,
buried for protection,
washed and polished rocks
diversifying my unified vision.

In dress pockets,
I tuck into shadows
the reflections resurrected,
reunite them with the rays
as I sentimentally
deconstruct them,

assembling a mosaic
stained-glass arboretum
to grow from pains and grief
a new garden of suncatchers
and walk among the rainbows
into a new and beautiful future.

Poem and images ©LauraDenise

Ripples Rising

From a sprout,
sea-oat planted
in sugar sand,
despite the salt
water, it expanded,

yeastless, missing ingredients, 
still rising to release
the aroma of
bay-rippled, lunar-lit
dreams

absorbed by clouds
above a distant shore,
sweet kisses 
and morsels of whispers
delivered to moon, igniting 
the next star

to guide love closer 
to that flourishing grain, 
swaying with that savoring
flavor of faith.

Poem and image ©LauraDenise

Four Seasons (Four Haiku)

choking vine pierces
peering into window pains
drains the last color

ember of strength flares
colors of chested dreams surge
from the inside paints

momentum floods up
the courage to turn away
and spread self-love’s wings

the greatest fear yet
overcome when exposing
the heart once again

Did you know I post my photo haiku daily to Instagram? This is today’s. https://www.instagram.com/bylauradenise 

Wishes and Prayers

When I pray, 
I always add the addendum,
“…if it is in accordance with Your plan,”
for more than what I plea for,
superseded, I wish for us to remain
always in His hands.

I trust whatever may happen,
although I may not understand,
will come with a needed lesson,
a necessary occurrence in the process
of the destiny in becoming once again 

who I am. 

I was reminded of this
when a partial wishie lent
further wisdom for reflection.

Sometimes the biggest wishes
should not be spent, eyes closed, 
all at once, in one breath and direction

but patiently 
spaced out in seeds,
part self-initiated action,
part angel-breath breezes. 

Sometimes what we desire most
needs time to germinate to non-perfection
and be released in parts for better chances
of fruitful multiplication. 

I am always careful 
in what I wish and pray for:
I don’t want to get in the way
of what He has in store. 

I try not to be too cautious 
in taking action with soulful instinct,
for the surest way to get lost
is to pass up what He hands me. 

I do close my eyes 
to bring up a whisper
from my soul
that launches another
seed of hope… 

Poem and image ©LauraDenise

Rider

Illusion of control, 
I never really drove, 
not on a road trip
of my own;
I rode
round and round, 
hair in the breeze,
holding on to the mane
of carousel dreams, 
never free. 
Now I am.
But the invisible reins
of pleasing so long
keeps me stalled
in the corral;
my voice on auto-pilot
agreeing with everyone else. 
A passenger yet.
I sit quietly 
still looking out
the windows.
But in the rearview mirrors,
I frame my favorite parts, 
and up ahead in the near distance,
I see the peaks 
of my heart’s desires. 
I think I am ready
to take the wheel
while listening to nature
on God’s behalf appeal
to my soul, that home, 
I’ve carried all along.
I only needed to use my voice
to steer to where
I belong. 
I will need to put it in park
for the final leg,
so I can ride bareback
on my stallion 
away from all of them… 

Poem and images ©LauraDenise

Bubble Dreams

Dangerous to dream, I know. 
Foolish to fly in a bubble! 
Either could burst
without notice, 
drop you fast in a plummet 
to the hard reality surface. 

But what if…

the trajectory was directed
by angels’ breaths 
and the bubble made impenetrable,  
a shield only able to be
forged from the past,
and you were gently lowered
precisely as intended
by the benevolence
of your higher power
assisting you in the navigation 
toward your heart’s
deepest and purest desire?
What if the bubble 
met passion’s fire?
And in the ashes
two phoenixes rose
and began new life
and left behind 
all the rainbows 
found in bubbles?

Poem and images ©LauraDenise