Tag: SelfLove

The Condition

The thing about self-love
is the condition
that it be
unconditional.
I must be a friend
to myself
when I need
one the most

and remember
what makes me, me,
are not flaws,
and in the handling
of my wounds
after stumbling
must come
the greatest care
of all.

Pieces we can’t get back
and permanent scars
must simply become
part of the beauty
of the sculpture
of the heart.

Breaking Chains

When the hurt floods in
and your traumas
drain your green
and starve to death
your newly-sprouted dream,

when the cobwebs reappear
and re-chain you
to faulty self-beliefs, 
when you bow your head
and turn with shame from me,

know that I 
will always remain
to break the cycle
of love leaving you again.

I will lend my green 
and yellow and light,
and whisper that I love you
still and more and despite

like you have done for me
in this beautiful, mutual growing

of self-love. 

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

Humble and Free

Innately humble,
previously crumbled,
leveled beneath the rubble
of decades of reinforced
word-misuse,
untruths, 
I now know,
this self-love journey
continues to unfurl
quite like the protective petals 
finally believing 
the whispers of the golden
morning light.

img_5169

I have done more
than bloom:
I have begun the rise.

Saltwater rightfully weathers
tears petrified.
Scars from my past
cannot be erased,
but the open wounds have sealed
and the sting of the waves
I no longer feel,
only the saving 
grace. 

(Photos of me by my daughter)

Beneath The Magnolia Trees

May Day birthday, one to add
genuinely to my scant album

of joyful memories,

as Time bows down to still itself
and lets me live some moments
immortally

beneath the Magnolia trees

that seemed to have waited
for this occasion
to begin their epic blooming.

So dear to me have become
the velvet ivory,
symbolizing hope
and soul purity,

so many seasons dormant,
waiting and waiting
and waiting so patiently
for me to water
the self-love seeds.

The skies reflect their best blues,
the clouds tone down with humility,
the leaves dance with the breeze,
the sun, between, flickers in winks.

I am the center of the universe;
all planets line up to kiss my cheek.
I could stay here, my happiest place ever,
forever in this heavenly garden

of Magnolia trees.

Poem and images ©LauraDenise

Always Have Been

When the voices inside,
whether yours or theirs,
start to rise up and disguise 
the lies as truths,

look to the sky
and see the ray
of light shining down
on false transparencies 
refracting all the
beautiful colors
that make up you.

Don’t use artificial
looking glasses,
for the perpetrators
can too easily
hide behind them,
your doppelgänger included. 

See your reflection instead
in the windows of the souls
of those who genuinely love you:

the portals will be clouded over
for only non-love pierces
with ulterior motive
and unwilling hypnosis.

The only one being used
when the truths are real
is the messenger revealing
how God sees you
as his beloved creation.

You are precisely as He 
has lovingly with purpose
made you. 

You are more than enough. 
You are perfect in His eyes. 
Don’t let unreliable narrators
convince you otherwise. 

You are the story. 
You are also the pen. 
You are the blank page
today again. 

Don’t succumb
to writer’s block
by others injected:
each day you leave
the space unmarked
is another win for them. 

To be held in captivity 
is only a matter of the mind:
there are no chains binding you.
However messily you need to, 
just write the first line 

of today. 
And do it again tomorrow. 
Until you remember
where it was you were headed

before getting derailed, 
detoured, delayed…
You have the power
to begin 
the change. 

Pick up the hose
to see the rainbow;
don’t wait for the next rain. 

You don’t need to search.
You are the gold. 

You always have been.