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

Collisions

No words
for once
for you, 
just this
gratitude
I transfuse 
from my heart
to yours
while you
hold me
a little
more,
and our hearts
beat
as one
as they always have:
it led us 
to us, 
our rhythm 
long ago
set in time
by the gods.

My love, 
I knew
in that first
moment,
you were
the one. 
It’s not
cliché
when dreams
are made
from the clay
where star-wishes
collide
with the earth
when they are sent
back
to finally
be birthed. 

You pull back
to look at me,
and the stardust
in your eyes
reveals
the cause
of the tears,
those few magical drops
that are silently
released
in the moonlight
and cleanse
both of our
fears. 

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…

Solar Love Story

She is the sun; he, the moon.
Her radiance sustains the whole galaxy:
her rays embrace all.
“She will never notice me.”

Her light reaches him though,
making him feel he is aglow himself.
“She is out of my orbit,
the entire universe’s mademoiselle.”

Day and night, he thought of her
and ways he could express his affections.
“Maybe she will notice
if I reflect her incandescence.”

He looked forward to when
he circled nearest her,
rehearsed how he would present himself
but each time, choked with fear.

And away the gravity took him,
parting him from her once again.
He finally gave in
to thoughts self-defeating.
“I am but one plain moon,
of her love, not worthy.”

All the while, she longed for him,
her reach at each sunset especially visible.
Each time he passed her at that closest point,
she tried to turn down her heat
to show they were compatible.

Until she, too, gave up hope,
never moving on but letting go.
“Oh, my dear sweet moon.
how I wish, to you, I could have been
beautiful.”

And so it is and continues:
the greatest love story never to be,
not gravity but themselves preventing
the realization of the same dream.

(Pano shot viewable on my site.)

Feathers Aglow

IMG_1203

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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