Today, I Choose

Today, I choose
to mute the gray,
encroaching ghosts,
and the negativity
of others attempting
to block the rays.

I turn up the colors,
the cardinal’s song,
my own showtune voice
singing along,

the sky blue,
the verdant greens,
the leaves infused with
late summer’s breeze…

Today, I choose
to mute the grays,
to focus only on
the beauty gifted
in this day.

Poem and image ©LauraDenise

Always Surmountable

©LauraDenise

We are never trapped,
just fated to faulty perspective,
succumb to specious perception;
it’s all relevant, related –

one more rock-move away
from the light 
on the other side
of the avalanche,

one more “wrong” turn
lost in the forest
before hearing
the anabranch…

much is necessarily experienced:

near suffocation sometimes the only way
to motivate a life-saving change,

the legs of the journey
in the humanless woods
lead to the reflection
and feeling of wounds,

and all paths probably have purpose
among the universe’s higher powers.

Without the lonely, looping trails,
we could not emerge anew
with our truest selves

and others we met along the way
not-so-coincidentally placed.

We are never trapped. 
We are never lost. 
At least not for very long. 

No change was ever ignited 
without the spark.
So many opportunities
missed, passed up, though
after being gifted matchsticks
but still refusing to start
the fire. 

Wish Depletion

No wishes for you;
they’ve all been used –
all that’s left,
dark silhouettes
on a backdrop
of gray doom… 

not entirely true! 

These particular wishes
attached to prayers
have all been 
sent by another
who cares,

and with each
of those breaths,
so many more
seed-wishes
with wings

were launched 
to find where
you are
and rebirth
your dreams.

Turn around and see
the field gifted to you
from me. 

Poem and images ©LauraDenise

Gripping Sand

Sometimes we must firmly
grip the sand
instead of merely wishing
to be carried to shore.

Sometimes it is best
to escape through the window
rather than open
either door.

Sometimes when the photo album
has so many empty pages,
it’s time coloring the sickness yellow
since it can’t fade non-faces.

Sometimes in the dark wood
instead of striking tear-soaked matches,
we must look up for the beacon
of light through the branches.

Sometimes from the cliff of depression
instead of digging our nails in,
we must be willing to release our grip
and reach for the offered hand.

Sometimes for a while longer,
it’s good to remain on our knees,
but He cannot help us rise
if we let lie His gifted bravery.

Sometimes when we grip the sand
and claw our way to beach,
we complain it’s the wrong island
and forget we were just
drowning in the deep.

Poem and images ©LauraDenise

The Past In Your Palm

Natural beach tangleballs
messily woven with care;
the tides tidy the past,
clean up the yesteryears,

least-cherished experiences
ready for burial but not at sea,
rejected from the ocean
to keep the present clean.

From the depths, the debris
from storms and dune erosion
get collected and rolled like snowballs
and returned to the shores,

sand burial for these non-treasures
heavy in the chest
that successfully sunk
but then resurrected.

Inspect it, if you can,
at this time of the future,
the mess and the once unbearable
now so compacted,

once thrashed about
then captured by the dark and deep,
now in your palm, non-crystal ball
looking back controlledly–

the imagined lines and ropes
and exoskeletons of past selves shed,
the stench of rotten wounds
and splinters of the shipwrecks,

all detailed in
the collection of symbols,
the litter of your old life
ready for respectful burial. 

img_3118

Dig the hole
in sand or dirt,
and if so desired,
place a marker on it,

then walk back to the water
and submerge yourself:
the present is clear,
and blissful is this
new soothing swell. 

Poem and images ©LauraDenise

Building a Good Day

Happy Sunday!

It’s a good morning.

Because I have the amazing blessing of deciding how I fill my day. What a gift. What freedom. What power. What will I select from the generous menu to construct this day?

First, I choose mental and emotional peace. What brings me balance? Writing. Nature. God. Companionship. I have all of those at hand daily and indulge in them all daily. The absence of any one throws me off my axis. In the absence of a significant other, I am full from the companionship of a dear friend.

Second, I choose work. Whether it’s my paid career or just the endless chores to maintain a small home and large yard, I need to be productive, contribute, do good work and feel good about the results.

Errands and personal business matters on the other hand…YUCK! I despise that. I always procrastinate and dread adulting in those matters. Maybe it’s the creative in me that is tortured by such free-spirit-sucking monotonous tasks. I’ll clean my own house, do my own yardwork, but for sure would hire a personal assistant for that other stuff. Including shopping of any kind. (Shudder.)

After internal stability and productive work, I need to fill my heart daily with love and laughter. I am a lover by nature, so that is not hard. A little cuddling of a pup, a little interaction with humans I love, a little reading of heartstring-pulling writing, and I’m full.

Laughter is tricky, too easy to forget to add. You usually need another for that (even when I crack myself up, it comes from messaging a friend). You need another to make you laugh, whether on hand in person or digitally or from something funny created by another: memes, jokes, humorous writing, sitcoms, etc. Laughter is simply one of the best parts of life. Let’s never forget to put effort into including it!

Well, those are the morning thoughts. Today is a new day. I can largely make it what I want it to be. Thank you, God, for that gift and blessing and freedom and power. I hope I am making you proud by becoming, embracing, loving who you made me, who you made me to be.

I’m off to start my yard work. Make it a great day, readers!

❤️ Laura

whenyousurroundyourselfwithbeauty(☝️From my picture quotes I used to do. That’s my daughter, when she was younger. 💕)

Laura’s Lenses

 

Flowers in the spring–

such an extra colorful blessing

among the natural offerings

gifted to us so freely.

 

 

Nothing in the natural

does a grateful heart miss,

fail to be moved by

with awe, always open

to be filled with the bliss,

 

 

and when the grateful heart

resides surrounded by the soul

of a poet,

every blade and petal

 

 

and note of birdsong

is impossible

to forget.

 

 

Add the sui generis lenses

of Spotted Iris and Canon

 

and the art collection

personally held

in the mind’s eye and heart

allows for instant access

to light and tranquility

even in the turbulence and

dark.

 

Poem and images ©LauraDenise