See Past Shells

You are not broken.

We all have our chips,
scabs and scars,
stories hidden,

the search and strive
for perfect,
itself a myth;

you are perfect
as is,

each soul a treasure,
measured not by appearance
or the illusion of wholeness,

for we are equally complete
when love washes over us

for no shell is enclosed,
though we shrink within,

open and in rotation,
vulnerable hearts
search for a fit.

The ocean knows
and sings the wisdom:

each of us beautiful,
not just enough,
but the only one for another
and in God’s hands, cupped.

Poem and images ©LauraDenise

One Blank Page

If I had but one blank page to fill,
what would my message be?

What dance would my fingers perform
across the finite-lettered keys?

How could I paint in black-font
a picture of beauty and hope

that would reach and pierce with light
the souls who need it most?

If I were confined to the cage of a page,
how could I choose the right combination of words

that could break free from the paper or screen
and inspirationally rebirth?

How powerful words can be,
how powerful the choices,

how powerful this lesson when applied
to our spoken and inner

voices,

how powerful the silence
when writer’s block takes hold,

and we fail to say what should be said
when it matters most.