There is a certain trust

that is birthed, it seems,

when we let go of those things,

the ones,

we are not meant to be gripping,

for the wind cannot carry

that which is so willfully tethered.

If we simply allow ourselves

to float and let go,

all that is meant for us individually

will work itself out.


I am in no hurry

and my hands are empty,

the pace and weight required, I think,

to be light enough to be picked up

by the breeze.



Poem and image ©LauraDenise


The flock of birds that appeared during the rising of the song I was listening to on my morning walk really moved me…

Love, music, nature

all seem to strum the same inner strings,

playing different chords, forming

melodies that make the heart hum

and the soul sing.


As the birds in formation burst forth to meet the sun,

so my heart and soul leap up to follow,

but this body, for now, keeps my core anchored,

like a planet with a burning center


that longs to flow,