or maybe
a heart
and dream
simply
complexly
ebb and flow
into a
de s t i n y

Poem and image ©LauraDenise
Poet. Writer. Photographer.
or maybe
a heart
and dream
simply
complexly
ebb and flow
into a
de s t i n y
Poem and image ©LauraDenise
Tide flows,
tide ebbs,
changing, hiding,
revealing the edges
of division.
I watch
the transitions,
half dream-drifting,
half paying
detail-attention.
Always thinking.
I ponder on
the ebb and flow,
how one takes
and the other gives
in its rhythmic dance
to and fro
and how taking
can also be
giving,
and giving be
taking,
and for each,
the difference
is in the
seeking and releasing.
We send bottled messages
afloat, hopeful for
its accurate delivery
and offer what we desire
for burial at sea;
we collect treasures
and look for clues
from gods and mermaids
Destiny-strewn.
I notice in the wet sand
in between surf’s blanketing,
a secret passageway,
a ladder to dreams,
unless, of course,
it’s an evil illusion,
a detour or trap
set by opposing forces.
I wonder
how much
is serendipity
and divine intervention
verses taking control
and free will’s actions,
if choosing the evanescent
option not on the maps
is a test of fortitude
or foolish brassiness.
Another option,
nonetheless, is presented:
two piers to walk,
but only one may
have no end.
Poem and images by Laura Denise
The sea calls,
the tide pulls,
all are drawn
to the edge
where the surf plays
freely for all
such soothing,
soulful hymns.
Great Blue Heron wades,
slows even the waves,
pausing time, as I
fall
in suit,
the last two on earth
walking side by side…
Poem and images ©LauraDenise
Not a beanstalk,
but it might as well be,
magic seeds
sprouting the way
to giant dreams,
and in the center,
a sunbeam
passes through
a hole in a leaf
purposefully
to reach me,
or is it simply that light
is at the center
of all belief?
Insignificant
the manmade pier seems,
foolishly leading
horizontally…
Poem and image ©LauraDenise
Sunset-lit pier
fades from focus
as the miniature shell-bridge
draws me closer
and gets me thinking…
about what we extend
in our reach to connect,
and what we retract
when we fear-react,
and all that’s gained
and lost from the taking
and passing of chance,
from the courage
to not or to
act,
and how far the distance
can be misjudged from perspective,
and in the grand scheme of things,
how important it is,
and how often we miss
and what we learn
when we look up
or bow our heads
to discern
the difference.
Poem and image ©LauraDenise
Less than two dollars.
Never richer.
The sea oats
have grown tall;
I let them
skim my palm,
feel the tickles
gifted from heaven
as the sea’s soul
is orchestra lifted
above the tides
of this earth
to scoop me up
with open arms
into the surf.
I offer all I’ve brought
to sacrifice to God,
releasing the heavy,
releasing the pain,
hoping the ghosts
will choose escape
as I make it more
uncomfortable
to haunt these
inner spaces
tarnished, turning gold
from the light
of love
joining the soul’s.
My feet sink
in the warm silk
as my heart,
with you inside,
even more
fills.
Buoyant become
the weights
as the shackles and chains
give way
to become part
of the dark, watery
grave.
Today, I take
back my life.
Today the curse,
I unwind.
Wet feet,
sand clinging,
I walk back
and through my fingers,
the sea oats feel
the difference
as the sun
awakens,
rises to kiss
me so gently
once
again….
Poem and images ©LauraDenise
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
Before they drown me,
I set them free,
release regrets
to the benevolent sea.
The negative leaves
in the ebb,
and in return
brings baptism.
Another rebirth,
a buoyant start,
no more weight
syncing me
to the dark.
Crest reflects
heaven’s light,
angels waking
at sunrise.
Arms spread wide
as the flow approaches,
submerged in the healing
saltwater solution.
Poem and image ©LauraDenise
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