Tag: #ocean

At The Trestle

Navigating rapids,
being battered by waves,
flailing in riptides:
for decades, the assay.

Perhaps that’s why
these ripples and reflections
call to me now
to make amends. 

I let my soul be stroked
with the bristles
coating with liquid layers
in redemption, baptismal:

acquittal.

A sibyl
reinstated.

Something about this river
brings back the scribbles
on my slate. 

I linger
at the trestle bridge, 
toes across inverted sky, skim. 
I know it is a portal
to where I have been.

I chant the rising words
to be let
in… 

Suffice

Artificial light
will suffice
when I employ
on quiet walks
my creative devices
to make art
during heart-
survival crises

until it all naturally passes,
as all weather is designed to do;
I need to do better with storm preparations,
though He always sees ahead and sees me 
through.

Tonight, to distract
with creative play,
I replace and extend
a stem with manmade

until the flower becomes a tower,
and then I ignite the beacon,
and let the moon console 
a lonely orb romantic-dreaming.

I do these magnificent things
not only to take focus away from the pain 
but because it gives me the control and power 
as an abuse-survivor to manipulate 
in a positive way. 

I do it for you, but really and also 
for me, selfishly, 
but if you and I both need it, 
how comforting it then becomes for us
to become “we.” 

You’ve been here too, 
I know, as I have been there, 
not these same tracks
but in the aches that echo,
shared. 

Following Flowers

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

Precious Petals

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

Organic Strands

Sand reset from man,
I become entranced
with the details of
single, swirling strands
of sensuous non-webs,
naturally highlighted
by Sun’s caressing hands
as time once again
slows, revealing all
there really is
to know
and leads my eye,
my soul,
through the untouched
and unknown
if not for my discovery.
I leave all undisturbed
as the week
uncoils from
my nucleic acids
and releases me
to breathe again.
The sea and
wildflowers within
begin to weave
with stems
and breezes
to stitch me
with soft sunbeams
and floral essences,
and I stay for
a few forevers
having the birds
serenading
with the familiar
carols heralding
spring…

Whilom Childhood