Beyond The Window

Looking out my bedroom window
a long while, late on a spring day,
opposite weather inside of me,
a seductive swirling veil of gray, 

to choose which to follow,
if either non-path at all, 
takes the breaking of the trance
when both come so subtly to call.

I didn’t wait for the new day;
I chose the remainder at hand,
clipped the leash to the too-excited dog,
laced my sneakers and simply began. 

I let a trickle of hope in
on the way to the pond
to stir the stagnant layer
hovering weightless
but still clouding
my heart.

Perhaps I could find 
beauty or love or both
in my always-open lens 
that filters and feeds
light to soul. 

I did. For it is always there. 
Mother Nature never folds 
her extended arms;
She unconditionally heals,
cares. 

I knew a new day
would soon come
tomorrow, 
and all would 
feel better again, 

but the thing about
choice and action is
that Momentum 
can also be a dear
friend. 

I did not wait for New Day.
I drank the sunset medicine instead. 
It brought me soft romance
and a happy non-end. 

Poem and images ©LauraDenise

Some Days

Full moon
still hides
parts of itself
from view.

Wildflowers
don’t always feel
like opening
up to bloom.

Not all
birdsongs
can be
cheerful tunes.

Stars may not
get to every
wish they accrue.

Some days
the water
vapor is unable
to make itself
cloud-plumes.

Seasons
of the heart
insist a sunny poet
take a respite
in the shade,

but earth shifts
and turns
and always brings
another new day.

Poem and images ©LauraDenise

Now and Then

City bound, 
experienced, birthed
in the bustle,
though now it binds
as my heart pines
for the last stretch 
of passed pastoral… 

before the SunPass,
in a time before tolls, 
passing the tractor
and grazing cattle. 

I count down the days
until I can back-peddle
to the split-rail fences, 
and enter through the rickety gate
to my soul’s haven.

Take me away and back
and leave me there; 
come ’round to call 
every now and then. 

Open Road

Open road gently unfolds,
morning stretches
between sheets of grandiose.

In excited anticipation,
my heart leaps up at every curve
as the sun rises in all its glory
and slowly churns

hues so bold and beautiful, 
highlighting the rolling hills
of clouds –– windows down,
hair blown, coffee in hand,
and hours to go.

I will never mind an open road,
man-laid black carpet
leading into the natural horizon
beneath God’s effulgent throne. 

Poem and image ©LauraDenise

Yellow Blooms

Yellow and white wild blooms
I insist remain nameless
I contemplate picking for you
to arrange in sill sunlit,
but I can’t do it;
I keep them rooted
but skim their scent
over fingertips,
and a fallen one tuck
in a long, silky tress,
face tilted up,
b r e a t h i n g  i n
this existence
in yellow floral dress;
the sun kisses shoulders,
and I sense your jealously
in our cottage
working remotely.
Heading back,
I hear the kettle whistling
cheerfully for me….

Amidst and Between

Amidst the thorns,
beneath the wounds,
we can take turns
bringing self-love
to bloom,

we’ll smooth
the edges
so raw and jagged,
each lend the silk
of virgin petals

birthed in kisses
and gentle touches,
countering the poisons 
of previous “gardeners”
with ill-intentions,
fencing us from 
freedom.

We’ll remain
faithful companions,
take turns in the cycle
of taking and giving,

in sun and shadow,
through every internal
season and weathered vane.

We’ll simply heal
and learn
what love is,
together
the right way

until we both
blossom white,
centers exposed
to feel 
the cleansing 
rain. 

Love will 
beget love
which will 
beget love
to spread.

It begins
with us.
It begins 
within. 

Poem and images ©LauraDenise

Dandelion Canopies

You’ll find her beneath
the dandelion canopy, 
refueling her yellow,
feeding her sunny,
nectar for her sappy,
when the sun is setting,

the crazy nature girl
bending, squatting,
making magic
out of “nothing.” 
Witnesses stop asking
what she’s doing.

Make fun of her 
but don’t interrupt
the wildflower child 
when she’s crouched,
hair dangling down 
in the dirt,
as roots reach up
to genially greet her. 

Never mind her 
echo to the birds
or her silly grin 
as she whispers
to unseen
chimerical creatures.

You’ll find her beneath 
the dandelion canopy
filling her heart’s fancy
with macro memories. 

img_9363

Poem and images ©LauraDenise

Green Fling

Tropical paradise fans its greens at me,
draws me so teasingly out with camera to play;
too modest usually, I let my ego go
to freely compose with total control the frames.

Sun knows its among my favorite subjects
and extends its rays for me to pose;
I do bow in reverence, low to the ground  
before immortally storing gifts so graciously bestowed. 

Magnolia waves, knowing her place in my heart;
I practically skip over, slip under her glossy canopy,
excited for her next batch of pre-petal tepals
to be rebirthed into another spring. 

Palms sway, brushing the blue above
as wisps of white clouds lightheartedly swirl in;
some days were simply created perfectly
by The Greatest Artist and so selflessly gifted. 

Poem and images ©LauraDenise