Poet. Writer. Photographer.
Whirlwinds, whirlpools,
whirl me, no blackholes,
just the pulls and pushes
of the world;
when will I be able again
to simply be
still?
My soul needs the refuge
of trickles,
the focus on the ridges
of ripples.
Throw me not around;
throw a pebble
to the pond
for my gaze to sail upon
to where the circle runs
out…
Just give me a moment
and I’ll give you again
all of me,
all of my
love.
Poem and image ©LauraDenise
Seasons about,
seasons within,
seasons of life,
seasons begin.
All seasons end.
This brings about what pleases
and that which disappoints,
that which shatters
and that which fills with joy,
but who are we to judge
what’s in our best interest
from our non-omniscient,
limited perspective?
Who is the narrator?
Who is the character?
Who is the author?
Who will read it
in the end?
Dusty cover,
spring breeze,
dust to dust,
seasons never cease.
I resist the gales of change
even though I’ve grown wings;
sometimes our comfy cocoons
are stirred on purpose
by the leaf.
Premature nostalgia
begins to take hold;
I try to focus on the excitement
of what He has in store.
Seasons never cease.
“Nothing gold can stay,”
but it returns so loyally,
and in its absence regrows
faith.
I will harvest the gold
in the center
as the petals unfurl,
life within life…
keeping or returning to
the purity and light,
I believe,
is the eternal goal.
Poem and image ©LauraDenise
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
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
The sky is not
the limit
but the start;
the sun
never sets,
just lends
its rays west
and the stage
to the stars.
Wildflowers cannot
be weeded if
they sprout
from the heart;
you cannot stop mine
from rising beyond
the highest heights
of love.
My heart sighed,
the exhale combined
with the incoming uplifting
screened spring breeze;
despite the birdsong,
my eyes welled up,
as I began to walk into
Sadness’s alluring stream…
But my nature friends
and forces always seem
to intervene!
To my pane came
a hummingbird who hovered
until I forgot
all of my soul’s woes
and again felt
Hope’s flutter
and the feeling
of not being
in this world
alone.
Despite it all,
life is truly beautiful
as long as there is
this Presence I feel
so connected to.
Cut me open. I don’t think
I will bleed.
I am sure
butterflies
will rise
out of me
and to the moon,
my essence return,
merging light
to warmly glow
in a belonging
forever.
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
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
Let me be as wild
as a flower
sprouted from a seed
who bravely let go
of the breeze
to be free,
self-planting where
she pleased,
a blooming,
finally-realized
dream.
(I don’t have the photo yet…)
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.
Laura Denise 