Moon-Chaser

moon-chasing
as stars ignite
and the orb shrinks
commencing night

lone lady on boardwalk
two boats in the water
all become still
in silent homage

Poem and image ©LauraDenise

Never Fully

Golden Orb so slowly burned out,
descended beyond all trace,
save for its selfless beacon beam
upon Waxing Crescent’s face

who, in turn, invited every star
with unknown name
to share the stage
for the benefit,
Hope’s Grace,

admission for all, free,
no matter the creed;
for me, I believe
the Creator of space
so lovingly handmade
a place where the light
never fully recedes,
personally for you
and for me.

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

The Green Returns

The green returns
as sure as the sun;
the seasons keep spinning,
web-weaved by the One.

There must be a purpose
for the phases of the heart,
like the moon always whole
but only showing certain parts.

Shadows and winter and
stormy weather undesired,
but without feeling the chill,
what would be the motivation
to light the fire?

What could wake, shake, and
empower my soul
if not for the thunder’s
inciting rolls?

How could the beacon
so clearly light the way
without the shadowing trees
contrasting and parting
for the ray?

The green returns
as sure as the sun:
my heart turns again
in its revolution.

Poetry and images ©LauraDenise

Inextinguishable

Above the clouds,
looking down,
I see the beacon
unable to be buried
beneath the waves
at the “bottom” of
the abyssal sea:

it shines for me,

lighted gem
of hope
at the heart
of the ocean’s soul,

Mother of the light
that has long been
implanted in me.

I recline on the sky-drops,
and the automatic echo
from my chest begins to flicker
its internal glow.

Poem and images ©LauraDenise

Evening Petals

As the sun sets,
and sangria
kisses my lips,
I twirl
white petals
in my fingertips,

manipulating them
into the frame,
and with my dreams,
I do the same,

as if the halo
of the golden light
will bring my
heart’s desires
to life,

and for added measure,
or perhaps because I
can’t help but linger,
I add a little bit of
mystic moonlight
as if the glow
from both
will last
until

he arrives.

Night Air

My favorite kind of sky
graces me tonight.
No matter moon’s
shape or size,
it is the clouds
that catch my eye
(no surprise)

in the way
they float by
as a reminder in time
the dark always gives way
to the light.

In the distance,
the wind chimes
softly join
in nature’s lullaby;

trees in the perfect breeze
and insect trill
pacify my mind,
and I remember what it is
to be still…

Feathers Aglow

She soaks her dreamcatcher feathers
in moonlight
to harness the lunar power
of cosmic possibilities;
though the glow does not keep,
from the weave into her dreams
the magic seeps,
and she dances all night
among the stars,
flowing dress sweeping
across the sky
in a solo performance
that causes sentimental clouds
to cry,
and the stars and moon
seem to glow extra bright
as she so gracefully
whirls by.

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Away from Moon

Unintentionally slipping

away from Moon

as my dreams

the stars granted

start to come true,

like so many

slip away

from God

after their pleas are spilled

and tears dry up.

But I

am even closer to Him

after the showers of blessings,

with humble gratitude

and daily thanksgiving.

So I apologize to Luna,

my oldest comrade,

who so faithfully

listened so long

when I was so weighted

with all that was in

my head.

I never spoke

to the stars;

it was always Moon

I trusted most

when unloading

my heart.

“Moon, I do

promise

to stay connected.

Let’s meet here again

tomorrow

and catch up,

dear friend.”

Beneath the Super Moon

I harness storms and moons

through raised arms

and submersion in sea,

accepting, channeling,

the power and glow

into the innermost

depths of me.

Do I look any different?

My aura, the galaxies in my eyes?

Because I feel the change,

the invincibility,

when my soul soaks in

the rain and night lights.

I harness storms and moons.

I wonder what a “super” would do,

a “snow moon” over white sand,

beams reaching the waves

that in anticipation

dance…

I feel the magic will not take effect

unless upon my flesh

I feel the light

the super

only tonight

casts….

With a certain moon alignment,

perhaps these magical waters

will reveal I am really

Luna’s long-lost daughter.