Symbols in the Sand

A detour, soulful tugging,
I find myself impulsively
knelt again on the white sands
before the altar at an end
of the earth,
surf symphony
rising predictably
to greet me,
but I casually look about
for the signs He wanted me
to again come ’round…
between my toes
ancient mountains ground
to grains,
quartz granules,
sugar-soft,
appropriate backdrop
for the hieroglyph
written for me:
it freezes me.

So easily,
I succumb
to the enchantment
of silence,
save for those waves
and occasional sea birds
with personal messages calling.
(It always baffles me
how I can so often have
this parcel of paradise
to myself…)
I stay a long, unhurried while
just trying to feel
what this enigmatic swirl
of sea oat in the sand
is all about…
Something about curves
is always so sensuous,
aesthetically strokes
my soul…
I don’t need a translation;
in fact, I prefer
this sacredly-carved symbol.
I make it my own
and add it to my collection
of clues
leading me leisurely
home.
It is the journey
after all, and I have nowhere else
to go.

Poem and images ©LauraDenise

Shifting

shifting sands
grains unable to be grasped
slipping through fingers
sieve of my existence
footprints vanishing
in vain trying to leave
an imprint, fingerprints
fossilizing

as I watch
sea drops dry on shells
shells of mankind
displayed non-selves
on shelves

shifting painted shapes
offer to take me away
only to lead to the next
drifting cumulous cloud
lateral when I need
to be higher
homeward bound

shifting sands
I open my hand
spread my fingers wider
I know what the answers
are not
to feel the silk
is to feel
nothing caught
but sensory strokes
the void
in the curve
of my palm
no trail found
to my entrance
into the sea

saltwater can’t sting
when the wounds
are too far beneath
the body’s surface

arms open
I invite
the above in
home-
sick
let me know
I am not

forgotten

Erasure

Winds to be reckoned with
do more than make waves;
all evidence of human existence
is entirely without-trace erased.
Reset is the playing field.
Wiped clean, the slate.

Denied are the attempts
to leave any more prints.
The only impressions saved
are those upon the heart.
Is your legacy of love
enough to advance
to the next
start?

Poem and images ©LauraDenise

Into Two

One moment in time
turned into two,
and if it ends now,
it will see me through,

one moment in time
when the peace falls
like silent, soft,
glistening snow

dusting my heart
with pure, white hope
that love will indeed
make itself at home,

not just in me,
but in you as well,
brothers and sisters
in this shaken
globe-world.

Poem and image ©LauraDenise

Wide Awake

Trackless sand

reset for me,

endless horizon

the non-boundary:

first carefree steps

I take into my own hands,

reshaping my destiny

as I head for Dream Land

wide awake.

I will make

it reality.

Midweek Rainbow

When I feel called to the water,

I do not hesitate.

I trust in the inner urges

that so subtly pull me toward my fate,

less Moirai, more the plan of one God supreme;

nonetheless, the benevolent forces of nature

like a current

I feel

running beneath the surface of me.

Upon arrival this time,

what do I see

but a rainbow

to confirm

God is speaking

to me,

and the colors

though fleeting

will forever reside

inside,

transfixed upon the eye

of my mind,

as a reminder

never to question

His timing.

To Witness the Heavens

The winds arrive

and excite the waves,

even the green

line up about the bay,

my car detours

the same way,

all of us drawn to bid farewell

in reverence

to the last light of day,

casting down

in glorious display,

the awe

once ingrained

can never be

washed away,

to witness

the heavens

on an otherwise ordinary

Saturday.

The grasses seem to try to grasp

the sacred flame as it descends,

as if before bed to hug and kiss it,

or beg for themselves to be orange-painted.

The clouds huddle

and combine their potential

to honor in color

and escort the sun out

as if it were royal,

but royal is of the flesh and blood,

created, too, from the Ultimate Artist’s brush.

All images taken 2/1/20 @LauraDenise

Last Sunrise

Something compelled me to the sea this morning to bear witness to the last sunrise of the year. This song was already in my head…

All images in this post are mine and, believe or not, unedited.

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slowly emerging
this first light of day and last–
end of year sunrise

©LauraDenise

White Sand

between my fingers
I sieve the Appalachians–
white beach made of quartz