Ebbing Regrets

Before they drown me,
I set them free,
release regrets

to the benevolent sea.

The negative leaves
in the ebb,
and in return
brings baptism.

Another rebirth,
a buoyant start,
no more weight
syncing me
to the dark. 

Crest reflects
heaven’s light,
angels waking
at sunrise.

Arms spread wide
as the flow approaches,
submerged in the healing
saltwater solution.

Poem and image ©LauraDenise

May I?

May I never lose my way
to getting lost,
may I never resist the urge
to leave it all, 
may I never shelter my face
from the storm, 
may I never let my arms fall
in the downpour,
may I never fully wash off
the grit of the sand, 
and may I never be restrained 
by clock or human hand.

May I never negotiate with my soul: 
may I never let anyone close the window. 

Poem and images ©LauraDenise

Wishes and Prayers

When I pray, 
I always add the addendum,
“…if it is in accordance with Your plan,”
for more than what I plea for,
superseded, I wish for us to remain
always in His hands.

I trust whatever may happen,
although I may not understand,
will come with a needed lesson,
a necessary occurrence in the process
of the destiny in becoming once again 

who I am. 

I was reminded of this
when a partial wishie lent
further wisdom for reflection.

Sometimes the biggest wishes
should not be spent, eyes closed, 
all at once, in one breath and direction

but patiently 
spaced out in seeds,
part self-initiated action,
part angel-breath breezes. 

Sometimes what we desire most
needs time to germinate to non-perfection
and be released in parts for better chances
of fruitful multiplication. 

I am always careful 
in what I wish and pray for:
I don’t want to get in the way
of what He has in store. 

I try not to be too cautious 
in taking action with soulful instinct,
for the surest way to get lost
is to pass up what He hands me. 

I do close my eyes 
to bring up a whisper
from my soul
that launches another
seed of hope… 

Poem and image ©LauraDenise

Rider

Illusion of control, 
I never really drove, 
not on a road trip
of my own;
I rode
round and round, 
hair in the breeze,
holding on to the mane
of carousel dreams, 
never free. 
Now I am.
But the invisible reins
of pleasing so long
keeps me stalled
in the corral;
my voice on auto-pilot
agreeing with everyone else. 
A passenger yet.
I sit quietly 
still looking out
the windows.
But in the rearview mirrors,
I frame my favorite parts, 
and up ahead in the near distance,
I see the peaks 
of my heart’s desires. 
I think I am ready
to take the wheel
while listening to nature
on God’s behalf appeal
to my soul, that home, 
I’ve carried all along.
I only needed to use my voice
to steer to where
I belong. 
I will need to put it in park
for the final leg,
so I can ride bareback
on my stallion 
away from all of them… 

Poem and images ©LauraDenise

Wind and Wings

I will bend to please,
for I put first others’ needs;
overempathy makes me weak.

Forceful winds,
whether intended or not,
push with invisible pressure 
until my insides knot. 

In opposite direction
of secret desires,
the flight I am put on
with unpurchased ticket
takes me higher

but farther
on false wings
to where I wished to be;
nonetheless, I relentlessly
look for the positives 
in my surroundings. 

Rock, boulder, 
my anchor,
my center,
is never stationary.
I move the mountains
with the strength
of your arms 
and my unshakable faith
in the Almighty. 

Bent tree. 
Flight path. 
Criss-crossing trajectories.
I will bend back.
I will disembark. 
And wherever that leaves me, 
I will find where 
the wildflowers are. 
And if you pluck them all, 
I will water the seeds
in my heart. 

I will persevere as me,
no matter how many rounds
I smartly, politely, or wearily
concede. 
Each of those fertilize 
bloom potentiality. 

I will grow my own
wildflower fields
until they rise
out of me. 

Barricades and Gates

Don’t count the days
you’ve been apart
or all the fissures
that keep forming
in your heart.

Don’t count at all
except to count on the reunion.
Sometimes it’s necessary
to future-focus in those moments. 

Close your eyes
and let that vision in;
the light of faith
makes the best stitches. 

Stop red-exing. Green circle
all the days left in this life.
Keep hope open and
into each moment invited. 

Don’t count the tears that drop
in the seemingly endless flood. 
Count on His greater plan.
Lift your face to the Son. 

Pray for the courage to take the wheel
as the angels give directions. 
Sometimes we have to wait longer;
sometimes we need to take action. 

Sometimes it’s up to them;
sometimes it’s not determined by fate
but by every action 
we don’t and do make. 

Dead ends are the Devil.
Detours, angel interventions. 
The first, avalanches suffocating.
The latter, breathways to salvation. 

Poem and images ©LauraDenise