Poet. Writer. Photographer.
In the absence of trail markers,
I find they were always there;
He’s seen where I’m headed
and steers me with care.
An arrow in morning-glory gold
and silhouetted wings
once again lead me
solo into the sunrise
in my homebound
meanderings…
The sunrises are always mine,
the only ego I condone;
not only do my bones and soul
need to behold them alone,
I do believe the diurnal gift
for each witness is tailored,
different rays crafted
by Divinity’s fingers
and personally delivered,
and sometimes meant
to be received twice,
once live and another
to lift from within
when the timing is later
for an even greater purpose
right.
It resurrected again
today at three to remind
that it was always meant to be
mine.
the golden came
faithfully again to paint
pinetops as they gently sway
the glistening above
the reaching rays
autumn’s premonition
or southern grace
contributing to the
habitual change
of shades
just in time
as I was searching
for a place
to perch post-pain
to begin again
with syllabes
freeing my soul
to create
We all have shadows,
how easily, daily,
we forget,
ego mostly to protect
increasing the brightness,
blinding with discordance
who you are and who I am,
sharing the same thread.
The dark is not blocked light,
shadows are not turned-backs,
but the yin and yang of life
natural inside, what we all have.
Let us all embrace
the shades,
open ourselves
to being stitched
into the quilt
of human race,
each of our picture shapes
turning to color
and telling our stories
so we may wrap ourselves
in a shared comfort.
Poem and images ©LauraDenise
I am fueled by storms
and coastal wind
as I raise my arms to each
and channel them
until empowerment rises
boldly from within…
But it is in the still
and minute,
in the soft scent
of beautiful,
in the trust of subtle,
the barely discernible,
that I feel the forgotten
soothed,
those buried-alive
non-truths;
the golden elixir single ray
finding the torn petal
coats in those places
I am not able to ever reach
on my own.
Up close and personal
is the only way I know
to heal my heart,
to feed my soul,
and that, I believe,
is the path that leads
home.
Poem and images ©LauraDenise
Across the street from the ocean,
I reside,
at my everyday disposal
are the almighty tides,
the aquahorizon
with no opposite end
that blends with the sky,
no greater reminder
of the bigger picture
beyond this life,
and it does indeed
soul-energize,
but I’ve always known
the humility
of how insignificant we are:
I seek instead
the intimate inner warmth
I find crouched among
the non-garden flowers
inspecting the finest details
neglected and trodden,
and through my lens and art,
I depict how they feed
my heart,
shared roots and seeds
organically free
yet universally tied,
turning our faces
peacefully
to the shared light,
the Higher Power
who sculpted us both, all,
with intention and without
society-judged flaws,
precision in individuality,
every living piece
lovingly kneaded,
and when the rays
find and kiss petals,
this is the beauty
that stills me
breathless,
to see in crafted detail
the miracles of His Creation
and how love was meant
to prevail in every season.
Poem and images ©LauraDenise
Let my honeyed-elixir voice
in your left ear
reach down to the raw & scarred
present and past tears,
those rips in the abyss
of the soul:
let this touch caress
and these words slowly dripped
from my lips
coat.
I know
each deep,
dry-well fissure
all too well:
let me stitch you
with these
golden threads
like I’ve sewn
myself
and fill you
with the feel
of liquid hope.
Let it
overflow.
Lay down your armor
beside mine,
undress so I
may dress
the wounds
unable to be healed
by Time.
You are safe
tonight.
Let me take care
of you
until the return
of Light.
Poem and image ©LauraDenise
If I have to have walls,
give me windows
big and bright
where shadows can dance for hours
with the light,
windows that open
wide
to invite the breezes
inside.
In all mental-health seasons,
I so easily slip away
for days,
lose myself
in those sunny sills
and rainy panes,
faraway thoughts
that need not be
sorted nor restrained;
even my muses need
a holiday.
The spaces inside
my dwelling fade
in comparison
to the glass
and screens I need
for my soul
to not suffocate.
If I have to have walls,
give me windows
through which to endlessly
escape.
we reach for the light
we reach for the warmth
of the dawning sun
of any other
when the shadows come
when the ice forms
each part beautiful
naturally born
we reach
in hope
we reach
in need
we gravitate
we discreetly lean
trying not to show
the desperation
the fear
of becoming
too far frozen
we reach
to feel
the thaw
to reset
in another season
are you the one
to love
me?
Poem and images by Laura Denise
I must part ways with you now,
dear Darkness;
Light is forlorn
without its Laura,
my aura
is dimming
the further I drift
in this alluring
cradling
away from attempts
of putting forth
the efforts
to swim
back up
toward Bliss:
I still hope,
believe (barely),
that it exists.
A parting kiss…
Yes, I know
that means
I will have to let go,
for now,
of that dream,
but I can keep
the parts
that were seeded,
for weeds
they are not;
I feel it,
in that new spot,
how I can nurture
it into something
beautiful
still…
I will.
I return to the isle
from a distance,
leave a trinket,
so it is known
I’ll always
be near,
no need to desert
every future
possibility.
We will all
someday
see.
Laura Denise 