Tag: God

Chain Links

Withering weed
behind chain-link fence
produces the illusion
of being defenseless,

unable to escape
to freedom,
but the thing
about dandelions
is the way God made them,

for big are the dreams
they are charged with,
but it is in their breaking apart
into pieces that launches

these seeds of more
to be rebirthed elsewhere,
carried protectively upon benevolent breeze
and prayer

in different directions
better for us,
for when dead ends surround,
the ways are through
or up,

toward The Light,
and wing-bathed in hope,
blind-ride flight right through
the wide-open holes,

or one cracked window…

Poem and images ©LauraDenise

One Pebble

Whirlwinds, whirlpools,
whirl me, no blackholes,
just the pulls and pushes
of the world;

when will I be able again
to simply be
still?

My soul needs the refuge
of trickles,
the focus on the ridges
of ripples.

Throw me not around;
throw a pebble
to the pond
for my gaze to sail upon
to where the circle runs
out…

Just give me a moment
and I’ll give you again
all of me,
all of my
love.

Poem and image ©LauraDenise

Resetting the Sand

With wide-opened arms,
I offer myself
again to the sea,
double-red flag at the
abandoned beach
and in me.

I give it all to God
who takes it up
with the wind,
wild waves
rush up from within.

Benevolent powers
remind me
who I am
and what I’m capable of
in this lifetime chance

when He is inside me
like He’s always been,
and all of nature,
my lifelong friends.

The beach itself
is rippled clean,
new slate
on which to imprint
the path
He leads,

another first step
into the trust
of His plan,
the next leg of a journey
to lead me even closer
to where He is at.

Poem and images ©LauraDenise

Re-Lighting

Rough week. Double red flags waving. The bay wilder than the ocean. It called me home. Here’s to the ones in the throes of it. Let’s relight ourselves. Again.

I give my light freely,
but sometimes it is taken,
emotional perpetrators
breaching my innermost spaces.

They underestimated 
my strength
and did again
today,

for as long as there
is the sea and my God,
I will raise my arms
in faith;
you will never 
keep me down
as long as there 
are waves and rays. 

I will wash 
what you left
away. 

You underestimated 
our strength. 

Still Life

Still as silhouetted dragonfly wings
is all that used to swirl restlessly in me.
I hold my breath and so does the breeze;
we both stop time for centuries. 

The secrets from the ancient flier 
can only be imparted in complete silence;
any ripple in the universe jeopardizes
this which is rarely achievable in this life. 

Perhaps this is my umpteenth time… 

I recently had a supreme spiritual moment;
not now, but when I was again freshly broke open,
my soul exposed again to worldly poisons 
and decades-rotten ingested false notions.

It is only in these complete ruptures, it seems, 
can the bad get out and God restitch the seams. 
Perhaps it is true that the rock bottoms are needed
to unclench the fist and open the palm for receiving.

I was mended with light again by His own loving hand.
And inside me, this time, another something planted. 
I feel it in the silhouetted dragonfly wings suspended, 
except I think it is me that it and the breeze are sensing. 

I feel our connectedness, 
the same serenity seeds inside of us. 
It’s hard to go back to the way it was
when gratitude, which I’ve always had, 
are blooms in such surplus shooting up. 

Poem and images ©LauraDenise

Little Tree On The Mountaintop

Little tree on the mountaintop
beneath sun’s celestial reach,
planted purposely at the very peak
or actively advancing toward dreams
from a seed,
more mighty to me
than the mountain itself
and all of the tallest trees
beneath
looking up. 

Little tree on the mountaintop
Biblically reminiscent,
perhaps a Jesus story
never told,
or the Lord’s
seemingly futile reach
to have us remember 
this precious given life’s
goals. 

Who is changed upon the descent from the mountain?
Some things seem to remain as shocking as Moses’. 

Tears Dry (With Audio)

tears dry
like rain subsides
weather a part of nature
designed with intent
by our Creator

feelings, emotions
love and joy
despair and heartache
all part of what
deems us alive

would you trade it all in
for numbness instead?

if you already did
what could bring you back
from the breathing-dead?

perhaps a lot of it
comes from our own doing
and neglect

how many times we must
get in the way of His plans!

His plans for each
never carved in stone
I do not believe
for fate takes away free will
and free will shackles and frees

these pains must too
have a purpose
maybe more than a force
forming us

these tragedies…
who is to say
the why until
it is revealed one day

it is the blind eye
that is turned
rather than the cheek

that I think each
must explain
for admittance
through the gates

will He play back the footage
what will He deem as the highlights
will they match with what we think
we’ve done to please with our lives?

tears dry
like rain subsides
even the sky
cries sometimes

Poem and image ©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

In The Eye

Don’t tell me there is no divinity
when I am looking heaven in the eye,
infused with the essence, soul-transfixed, lifted,
swirling upwards as colors become light,

and the ingress solicitously entices the spirit
as form sublimes, shapeshifts until undefined,
and passes through the full transfusion of serenity
through the glowing portal in the after-pouring sky. 

Poem and this evening’s photo ©LauraDenise