Departure

@bylauradenise on Instagram

Between Brick Walls

Between brick walls,
faux stars:
still the magic
makes my dreams
flutter
in my heart.

Above the lights,
the universe:
I imagine lanterns,
launched with whispered
verse.

Perhaps True Love is Not

Perhaps true love is not
long-lost soulmates reunited
or two hearts shaped
puzzle-piece- or locket-and-key-like;

perhaps it’s not just one
but any two who
can fit just right
if each only trades in
fears for freedom
to rise as shared light,

and in that lift,
opposite of fall,
that is when hearts
are melted and forged

into the fitting pieces
or key and lock
to open the chest
and remember
what is love,

and what if love’s touch is not
a lightning spark but the hearth
that holds the flame’s warmth
long into the darkest hours,

or the faithful embers
staying aglow
for the return of air
to ignite the soul.

The Journey

The journey, they say,
is in itself the key;
I’ve been down
every wrong road
multiple times
it seemed,

but to surface,
I wish I could say unscathed,
with the treasure of me
in this mirror
now held
sacred,

I’m hesitant
to lay blame
on my past,
for who I am
was definitely shaped
by every shadowed,
obstacle-strewn
path,

and the key
that ended up being me
fits perfectly
into the lock
around your heart;

I look forward
to every step
we now get to take
together,
journeying to meet our Matchmaker,
hand in hand,
to that eternal
start.

Poem and image ©LauraDenise

Fins and Fairytruths

I gave others
just about all
of me selflessly,
and it drained
and
d
r
a
i
n
e
d
me
until I was left
baking in the sun
at the bottom of
a dry well,
fossilizing.

You found me.
Gently lifted
my head
and breathed
a fountain of life
into me,

and the well filled
as our hearts did,
and instead of treading water,
we taught each other
how to swim

in the direction we needed to,
dreamed of once,
instead of being at the mercy
of others’ currents,

and we rose together,
buoyant and free,
grew fins and made
a home of the sea.

Poem and image ©LauraDenise

Evening Petals

As the sun sets,
and sangria
kisses my lips,
I twirl
white petals
in my fingertips,

manipulating them
into the frame,
and with my dreams,
I do the same,

as if the halo
of the golden light
will bring my
heart’s desires
to life,

and for added measure,
or perhaps because I
can’t help but linger,
I add a little bit of
mystic moonlight
as if the glow
from both
will last
until

he arrives.

Beneath the Bloom

Beneath the bloom,
under the floral flaunting,
lies beauty
sometimes even more
enchanting,
leaves that seem
to cradle so caringly
morning’s first glory,
golden beam
soaking into the essence
of the green,
entrancingly aglow,
as if it alone
could hold
the last drop of hope
protectively
to give back
when the rest gets depleted
unexpectedly,
and beneath
even that,
a mystical trail
made of lucent silk
glistening against
the imperceivable invisible,
transiently lit
in a revealing,
fleeting,
a sign of some kind
leading…

Beneath the bloom,
I become entranced;
under the floral flaunting,
I still find
romance.

Floral SeaStar

The white turns sheer,
seems to dissolve,
revealing the seastar within;
it glows in my palm,

recognizing the lifelines
as the one for the message,
spirit to spirit,

a mutual connection,

a wish upon a star
long ago returned
with the reassurance
that those whispers
were clearly heard,

another sign
that I am on the right path
and getting closer
to where you are.

In the center of the star
appears the glowing
ember of my heart.

Poem and images ©LauraDenise

Seashell Ifs

Oh, Great Coral Conch Shell by the seashore,
if I whisper you my secrets, will you share with me yours?

If I tell you what I think about these mysteries to be true,
will you reveal nuances subtly as clues?

If I sat here still and listened attentively,
would you tell me adventurous sea stories of all that you’ve seen?

If I wanted to have a word with Triton, King of the Sea,
would you be able to send for the mermaids to transport me?

If I put you in my pocket to add to my collection,
would you lose your magic so far inland?

Most of all, I was wondering this…
Do forgive me if it is simply too presumptuous…

If I sent a message to him in a bottle, but the winds interfered,
would you find him for me and whisper this into his ear…?

Beneath the Super Moon

I harness storms and moons

through raised arms

and submersion in sea,

accepting, channeling,

the power and glow

into the innermost

depths of me.

Do I look any different?

My aura, the galaxies in my eyes?

Because I feel the change,

the invincibility,

when my soul soaks in

the rain and night lights.

I harness storms and moons.

I wonder what a “super” would do,

a “snow moon” over white sand,

beams reaching the waves

that in anticipation

dance…

I feel the magic will not take effect

unless upon my flesh

I feel the light

the super

only tonight

casts….

With a certain moon alignment,

perhaps these magical waters

will reveal I am really

Luna’s long-lost daughter.