Amidst and Between

Amidst the thorns,
beneath the wounds,
we can take turns
bringing self-love
to bloom,

we’ll smooth
the edges
so raw and jagged,
each lend the silk
of virgin petals

birthed in kisses
and gentle touches,
countering the poisons 
of previous “gardeners”
with ill-intentions,
fencing us from 
freedom.

We’ll remain
faithful companions,
take turns in the cycle
of taking and giving,

in sun and shadow,
through every internal
season and weathered vane.

We’ll simply heal
and learn
what love is,
together
the right way

until we both
blossom white,
centers exposed
to feel 
the cleansing 
rain. 

Love will 
beget love
which will 
beget love
to spread.

It begins
with us.
It begins 
within. 

Poem and images ©LauraDenise

Curses and Blessings

Deep in the thicket,
the strangers met, 
each escaping
abusive relationships,
seeking the alleged
encampment to rest.
They talked, they comforted, 
they began to open up.
Feelings were born
or stirred to remembrance.
Something magical 
organically flourished. 
But the curse of each 
found them and convened
and grew a thorny wall between,
but pure love and innocence 
in the end will summon 
The Supreme,
and upon wings, 
the Blessing came,
and the last of the Obstacles
fell forever away. 

Poem and images ©LauraDenise

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

To Where You Are

A poetic letter to me sent upon a wave and star
to reach through time, back to where you are… 

This “he” of your fantasies
receives your Little Red Balloon
and your whispers
to be delivered by Moon.

He will continuously clean
your mirrors until you see
as he does, all of your beauty
clearly.

You will weave wedding
wildflowers in your hair
and feel the wind whip
freeingly through the despair.

You will radiate in dresses
and feel feminine,
barefoot and free
upon grass and sand.

Your wavy locks
will be teased by the breeze.
Your hand outstretched
for a companion will receive.

Your heart reopened
will be filled to overflowing,
exceeding your dreams
with God-blessed reality.

Your voice in song
will again reach the heavens,
your loquaciousness endlessly
received with eager anticipation.

That voice in your head
and grip around your growth
will fall away as he convinces you
to love yourself.

Your faith will grow
as anticipated;
God will see you through
as He always has.
He knows always
what is ahead.
He will deliver love
if you cut the thread…

You will not give
your whole life
to this verbally-abusive “man.”
Soon you will be filled
with enough courage to act.
You will come to realize
those decades
of hurtful words
were lies all along;
you will come to know
your worth.

Who you once long ago
hoped instead you were
will appear as unwavering
truths in every mirror.

Wildfire Heart

I’ve loved before.
That’s what lovers do.
Never the problem,
just the flue.

My heat rising
and released,
but others
closed the vent.
I self-suffocated
each ember
of chance.

Again.
And again.

But my match,
finally met.
Impervious
to my intensity,
my molten form
held so tenderly.

I still love them all
for that’s what lovers do,
but so grateful each
closed that flue.

My fire is now
oxygenated,
a type of glow
that originated
when I was finally able
to feel being held,
and the way he made me
first love
myself.

We fell,
we rose,
along the way,
grew together,
blue and white
lovemaking
constellation
flame.

Too Early to Title

Are you here?
You’ve been searching,
collecting clues;
perhaps this segment
of sea will weed or
reveal identity truths.

Just you here
and your mind.
What do you carry?
What have you
left behind?

Look about.
Family. Strangers.
One in the same.
Or entirely different?

Who has come
to search,
and what for?
Who will leave
with less, 
with more?

So many shells,
filled and hollow.
So many opportunities
made and lost
among people. 

Memories can be made.
Promises broken. 
Second chances given. 
Losses counted. 

Each drop significant, 
each drop matters,
though so vast is
the ocean’s water. 

Water is one,
a singular thing.
We don’t count drops
until we are thirsty. 

Poem and images ©LauraDenise

Would You Walk With Me? (With Audio)

If I offered you my hand, 
would you walk with me, 
leisurely toward dreams
sunsetting upon the sea?

If I shared what’s in my shell, 
let you hear the whispers, 
would you heart-preserve them
among your dearest treasures?

If I stopped and turned
and looked into your eyes, 
would I find there
what I’ve been searching for
all of my life?

If I were brave enough 
to let that gaze linger, 
would you be brave enough
to close the distance
even further?

If you kissed me,
would you be able to surrender, 
to allow me to turn the key
and make you mine
forever,

not by locking,
but by releasing, 
freeing the love
you’ve been deep-freezing, 

to feel directly
the flutter of mine,
the wings I have grounded
indefinitely from flying?

And if they combined, 
these lights in our souls, 
would you regret
not having the time
for closure with
your shadows? 

If our union ends
up to be the origin
of love, 
would this moment
be perfect enough
for the first page
of our album? 

Would you fall
each day deeper
in love with me;
would our love grow
until it lifts us
into eternity?

I suppose if you don’t know
all of this now, 
I’d still like to walk with you 
awhile, 
and if you already know
all of this now, 
you should know
these feelings in me
I could never
disavow.

As you reach for my hand
even though none of this
I have said aloud, 
I feel the universe shift
and know I have been
finally found. 

Poem and image ©LauraDenise

Remembering Colors

Inner chamber protected, 
guarded. Scarred. 
Misused and abused
before. 
Colors over decades
fade. 
Doors and windows
boarded. 

The softness of you
like dawn. 
Patience watercolors
shared canvas in pastels.
Gradually, I reach 
to try some,
apply upon my soft shell. 

Day by day, ébauche
to a never-final coat.
Overflowing well within
now self-saturates. 
Self-love’s ducts
unclogged.
A Master peace of love:
brought together, 
soulmates. 

Poem and images ©LauraDenise

Twirling Petals

Between my fingers, I slowly twirl
the way I’ve done before,
white petals like the pinwheel
that may in turn propel my heart
and set in motion in the universe
the dreams I’ve protectively harbored, 
but now I realize, those dreams have been
all granted by the stars,
so the only thing that fades
in the mist of heaven’s clouds
is my grip on hope
for I can release the hold
now that I have been delivered
to your arms.