Gossamer Bridges

Till the gossamer thread you fling catch somewhere, O my soul.

Walt Whitman

I spend time and thread
reaching out for
places to land,
and sometimes I do,
but then I feel the wind
signaling again
that the respite is but transitory,
and I am not even
the spider
but a phoenix
whose wings have singed
over centuries
beyond this dimension
as I eternally morph
evanescently,
reaching out
for a home
for me.

https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/45473/a-noiseless-patient-spider

Gossamer Bridge

Coffee With Emily

If hope is “the thing with feathers
that perches in the soul”
and never stops singing,
even in the storms, 

then faith is knowing
the branch will never break,
that no matter the opposing forces, 
the twig will remain,

no what ifs
or backup plans
just in case:
the twig will remain
for hope’s unwavering
refrain, 

for even if hope 
has the wings to withstand,
all things with feathers
need a place
to land. 

https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/42889/hope-is-the-thing-with-feathers-314

Poem and image ©LauraDenise (Quoted line by Emily Dickinson)

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

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