Dissolving into Grace

Saving grace,
whole heart back
in your arms,
you hold all of me
as me;
I never knew
how non-words
could feel the best route.
Unspoken is our reset,
mutual forgiveness,
moving on
but not leaving
anything unaddressed.
We understand,
silent resolutions,
in the simple language
of love.

Do you mind if I stay
extra near
awhile,
to just exist
in this balance,
a respite
from the drama
of being so much?

Sometimes
(more often than not),
I exhaust
myself
with this wild heart
and wild soul
I house.

Hold me tight, my love.
You are the only one

who can.

Poem and image ©LauraDenise

Parting Kiss

I must part ways with you now,
dear Darkness;
Light is forlorn
without its Laura,

my aura
is dimming
the further I drift
in this alluring
cradling
away from attempts

of putting forth
the efforts
to swim
back up
toward Bliss:

I still hope,
believe (barely),
that it exists.

A parting kiss…

Yes, I know
that means
I will have to let go,
for now,
of that dream,
but I can keep
the parts
that were seeded,
for weeds
they are not;
I feel it,
in that new spot,
how I can nurture
it into something
beautiful
still…

I will.

I return to the isle
from a distance,
leave a trinket,
so it is known
I’ll always
be near,

no need to desert
every future
possibility.

We will all
someday
see.

Catapults

Internal disposition
of slipping
into loss
of direction,
contingent upon
situation, 
origin, intention,
catalyst participation,
leisurely initiated or
punitively inflicted,
meditation or conviction.
Usually welcome
as an introverted creative,
this episodic disillusion 
stripping me of all pulls
keeping me rooted
to anything… 

The void.

Loss of hearing
among the noise.

Galaxies inside.

Gravity denied. 

Lifetimes paused,
unable to decide

anything at all.
Desirous of a

f
a
l
l,

anything to move the air
to revivify my trackable pulse,
the beat of my heart
back on the radar
to be found again,
though I am not

lost.
I’m right here. 
The voice,
gone.

Why did I wander
so far 
from home?

The fall,
granted:
my return,

a

c
o
m
e
t

flung from
catapult. 

This will hurt
us all… 

Poem and image ©LauraDenise

Dust-Covered Heart

The revelation
did not hit
like a ground-scorching
lightning bolt
disappearing theatrically
in a trail of heaven-retreated
smoke…

I simply looked around
in the settling dust
of the storm
I created,
and there you were,
steadfast despite being
injured,

waiting
for me to again
extend
my hand.
You’ve always been there,
the only one
who’s never
left,

despite the mess
I make
in trying
to emerge
from the grave
of my past,

buried alive,
but each time
my wings
open,
the ghosts reach up,
re-clasp.

You never waver
in your belief in me.
I hope this is the last
tentacle severed
to set us both
free.

Broken Blind(ers)

Always broken blinds,
dirty window panes,
I listen for a message
in the language of The Rains.

Hours pass by as I lie
in honesty – open, transfixed,
determined to encourage
Revelation to visit.

On my island where I desire
the silence to shatter
the chaos swirling, chanting,
withholding the answers.

Sun returns
prematurely.
Cross-breeze through screens:
I listen for the whispers
to reveal what I plea, need,
to know

in my bones,
in my soul.

1/6/22

Ancient Tongues

I replayed your words, 
a favorite message,
though I’ve memorized 
the way it was delivered.

You did not seed it in me,
but something deep inside,
in a place never reached,
heard it and recognized
the voice, ancient souls
reunited, a stirring, 
an awakening, a rising. 

Something must’ve happened, though,
in the transfer.
You must’ve given too much of yourself
to my ever-after. 

Our once-upon-a-time now birthed,
I give back to you in equal measure.
Restored.
But now we each
have more.

Come, darling, take my hand.
Write with me. Let’s never end

this love story. 
Together. 

Our effervescence
need not be
evanescent. 
We can live
forever

as long as 
we have tongues
to dip and plunge

into the well,
we’ll leave our ink
upon the world. 

And when our bodies
become one
with the earth, 
we’ll find each other
as light
and rebirthe 

again. 
As one. 

Beyond the Tuscan sun. 

Fresh Rain

Rebirthing rain,
refreshing breezes whipping
through open windows
to shake me free

out of this trance
of overfeeling,
overthinking,
overbelieving.

I did not go out,
so the out found me.

On my knees.
A solemn prayer.
You should be feeling
better;
I am there

inside of you
eternally,

no matter the routes
to our dreams,
no matter even

if we ever meet.

I’ve sent my soul
to breathe
into you;
listen for a whispered
syllable or two…

Come, love,
let’s get you
rebloomed…

❤️

Poem and images ©LauraDenise