Broken Blind(ers)

Always broken blinds,
dirty window panes,
I listen for a message
in the language of The Rains.

Hours pass by as I lie
in honesty – open, transfixed,
determined to encourage
Revelation to visit.

On my island where I desire
the silence to shatter
the chaos swirling, chanting,
withholding the answers.

Sun returns
prematurely.
Cross-breeze through screens:
I listen for the whispers
to reveal what I plea, need,
to know

in my bones,
in my soul.

1/6/22

The Petals I’ve Known

It’s been sunny and seventies, and the seasons
have not so much been confused
as they have been seemingly
just leisurely mingling, amused,
some stalling, some joyfully letting go;
nothing in the South rushes though.

Like melting cubes of ice in tea,
we take it sweet and slow down here.
It tickles me pink to have the mix
sprinkling personal messages so clear.

Today started differently,
gray with a bit of nip in the air.
Certain trees partaking in autumn
are almost now bare,
covering the patio in a bland
blanket over stone,
which made the flowers
I did not grow
even more the focal point
of my windowed soul.

I smiled for how they have become
so deeply rooted in my journey.
Marking my heart’s pages,
so many petals and leaves held so dearly,
imprinting with their colors and scents
my most powerful untold stories.

Eruption

I stop kissing you
all over
with the arrival
of those colors,

that fleeting burst
of wonder
to remind us of our
benevolent Creator.

The sky erupts
in pastels and light;
the windows get tinted,
so I fly outside.

By the hand
and heart,
still connected, 
you follow suit,
smiling topless

in your jeans.
The light reflects
off my evergreen
irises.

You say it’s hard
to tell which is brighter
when my eyes are affixed
on the horizon,

but even you
succumb to it:
the moments of glory,
the magnificence, 

and just like that,
the day descends,
and we resume
our sweet indulgence:

lips dancing
beneath the stars
that wink between
themselves 
about the lovers

they brought together
by aligning 
when He finally gave the nod
in the timing… 

Poem and unedited sunset ©LauraDenise

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

Beacon

Turbulent tempest 
rises from within,
mere earthly matters
malignantly breach
the borders where
the spirit lives,
tears mix
with the salty sea,
Wind whips through 
as the harbinger singing,
assures His army
is near my shore.
I see the Beacon
from above
coming for


s  h  i  p  w  r  e  c  k  e  d    s  o  u  l  s 


ON ITS WAY TO me.
Never was I lost,
never forgotten,
never in jeopardy
of drowning. 
These truths I knew
which led me here,
the S.O.S. of my heart
He need not hear
for He is ever-knowing,
always inside,
but also right on time,
my location always known, 
sometimes granted though 
the visual signs
that my soul is not alone.
The Light so comfortingly
warms, 
and I am homesick
no more.

Poem and image ©LauraDenise

Somewhere Along the Way

I suppose somewhere
along the way, 
this became 
about me, 
this once person
conditioned
to inwardly
mistreat,
neglect, 
bury
prematurely
at sea,

too busy
keeping them
afloat
in puddles,
sacrificing my soul
for others, 

in the lows 
between lowers
in that life
unstable,
vows before God
to remain 
(abusive) spouse faithful,

the escape-clause
contingencies blurred,
repercussions lingering 
in the years after,

children ten years apart,
and always children,
I keep on 
giving,
Silverstein tree 
down to the trunk,
instead of remaining
to be sat upon,
I leave my roots
to carry on,

re-sprouting from
acorns and seeds
to reach the end
of land
as a sunflower, 
brazen yet desperate,
in the sand
to be plucked
by a youthful hand

and sprinkled
into the surf
for the mermaids 
to collect 
and bring to the site
of where I left
myself
and resurrect 

from Davy Jones’ Locker
the Heart of the Sea
still alive
in its keeper:
me. 

The ducks and swans
gather to greet
at the pond
where I used to
weep. 

Donned now
in floral dresses
and locks
long enough 
to dance freely 
with the breeze, 
(he always said
neither looked good
on me…)
the reflection I see
is another plot twist
in my ongoing story

with an ending
yet to be written 
but full of God’s 
golden glory,
His daughter’s strength 
ever-growing. 

Somewhere along the way, 
somehow this did become
about me. 
Another struggle lifted,
another soulful healing. 

In the setting sun,
I reflect upon the journey
and look so forward
to the fulfilling
of my legacy.

I will never drown,
for you can only
hold me down
so long, 
years but moments
in the eternity 
of dawn. 

Hope unconditionally
floats
from the buoyancy 
of love. 

This is my story, 
long overdue 
to be 
self-sung.

I actually do like to sing those soulful songs.
(He always changed the station if I even began to hum…)

Retreat

White flag of surrender
falls to the floor,
no blood shed
for this heart
has been drained 
too many times 
before… 

Ashamed I let you
defeat me when 
I let the sea
empower me
so fully 
again… 

But I will remain a friend
to myself; 
we’ve come so far.
Maybe it’s okay 
to be tired.

To push back
is to go against
the way I was formed, 
the fighter in me feeds
from daily faith restored.

I’ll need a moment,
to return to my corner,
where Love and God
will help me re-armor

not to face you 
but all that you represent,
an after-final-knock-out-
extra-round test

in a life in which 
I feel
I’ve paid my dues
with challenges to overcome
unwarranted, mis- and ab- used. 

I’ll rest awhile, re-group. 
One day at a time. 
Yesterday, too cruel. 

To Where You Are

A poetic letter to me sent upon a wave and star
to reach through time, back to where you are… 

This “he” of your fantasies
receives your Little Red Balloon
and your whispers
to be delivered by Moon.

He will continuously clean
your mirrors until you see
as he does, all of your beauty
clearly.

You will weave wedding
wildflowers in your hair
and feel the wind whip
freeingly through the despair.

You will radiate in dresses
and feel feminine,
barefoot and free
upon grass and sand.

Your wavy locks
will be teased by the breeze.
Your hand outstretched
for a companion will receive.

Your heart reopened
will be filled to overflowing,
exceeding your dreams
with God-blessed reality.

Your voice in song
will again reach the heavens,
your loquaciousness endlessly
received with eager anticipation.

That voice in your head
and grip around your growth
will fall away as he convinces you
to love yourself.

Your faith will grow
as anticipated;
God will see you through
as He always has.
He knows always
what is ahead.
He will deliver love
if you cut the thread…

You will not give
your whole life
to this verbally-abusive “man.”
Soon you will be filled
with enough courage to act.
You will come to realize
those decades
of hurtful words
were lies all along;
you will come to know
your worth.

Who you once long ago
hoped instead you were
will appear as unwavering
truths in every mirror.

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