Aforementioned

There is no greater feeling
(other than love, and perhaps forgiveness)
than the way the heavens
ever so slowly open
in the last of the
fading rumbles,
parting clouds
to reveal nothing more
than the forgotten,
that supreme is
all, above and beyond this,
that we never were alone
through any of it;
it makes me almost wish

for another storm…

I realize that this is
that love and forgiveness
aforementioned
taking form.

This is how inner
peace is born.

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Poem and images ©LauraDenise

After-Storm

Unedited after-storm sky,
heavens open up
as if to apologize 
for the tribulation
necessarily survived,
though still withheld 
must be the why.

Instilled with a knowing
a higher power so loving
is in control when I spin
in my free will off trajectory, 

I simply pause all the swirling
emotional turbulence within 
and feel the wind,
the exhale of the one above,
mighty breath on my skin;

my hair and soul lift up,
and I wish my feet would. 
Grounded on this earth for now;
let me master all the lessons.

There is nothing but comfort
in the after-storm sky,
a sojourn wrapped in serenity,
a glimpse of afterlife. 

Drifting

Blue skies seem sometimes
behind us too far,
and when the oasis of nearness 
dissipates into illusion
yet again, 
we dangerously tire,

as the colors of hope
fade
like sidewalk chalk 
in the rain,
and we drift
without care
into the storm. 

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But as long as there are
forks and bends
in the paths and roads,
what-ifs and depends,
Fate can only temporarily take
hostages,

for choice and circumstance
and weather will permit
the opportunities
to change direction
over and over again;
only lack of faith
can lead to the
false perception 
of dead-ends. 

Sometimes when we are
too weary to drive,
another takes the wheel: 
sometimes God,
sometimes Satan, 
sometimes someone
who loves you still. 

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Poem and images ©LauraDenise

Unforecasted Rain

Rain and storms, natural parts of the cycle;
why do I let them sometimes level 
me? Perhaps it’s the blindsiding.
What if I had a service to alert
when my past in shallow puddles lurks?
Tentacles too quickly encircle
around my ankle–
down the rabbit hole
again. Yet even then,
I know from experience, 
the falls are physically
harmless. What’s another
puncture in a wound
unable to be seen?
Though no bodily pain 
I’ve ever known 
makes me so heavily 
internally bleed 
out. Hemorrhaging soul. 
Still, it is inevitable:
the weather changes 
back again every time.
What’s left behind?
A piece I bury, not of me,
but a part of the repetition 
of unhealthy;
one less tentacle grows back, 
unable to regenerate. 
One by one, I slay them, 
and the only way 
to pass through the portal
is through those puddles,
so I brace 
for the rain. 

Poem and images ©LauraDenise

Breakers

I am here. 
I am being me. 
Helpless it seems, 
but you say
it is everything. 

I hope so. 
Since the beginning, 
trusting you 
has been so easy. 

These words, simple. 
This love, profound. 
Love will win.
You will never drown. 

Hand in hand, 
together, 
we will ride
this wave
out. 

And when the surf
comes for me, 
I’ll hold on to you
until the sirens
leave. 

Through the cycles
they have cursed us with, 
we will persevere,
for lovers can be
a force to be reckoned with;
there will come the day
when they tire
or we
outwit… 

I can sense through you
this next approaching
phantom breaker.

Give me a kiss, 
my love,  
and let’s brace, 
holding each other. 

Cover your ears
and keep your eyes
fixed on my irises 
reflecting truths. 

With the strength
you gave me,
I won’t let them
take you. 

Poem and image ©LauraDenise

Tears and Tears (Triple Haiku)

fresh spring rain on green
salty drops clinging to cheeks
all water cleanses

tears and tears the same
heteronyms for the pain
one dries, one remains

tears and tears post-storm
one can let the light reach through
one can bloom from love

Poems and images ©LauraDenise

More of my haiku and nature photography on Instagram! https://www.instagram.com/bylauradenise/

My Buoyancy

When a million mixed feelings rise up in me
despite the dam I’ve so meticulously built,
and the tears threaten to overtake, 
in the emotional disturbance, overspill,

and I get so frustrated
for not being able to keep it down,
and I get exhausted from 
the not understanding
of these things too buried within myself, 

and upon my pillow, I offer up the prayer
for God to calm the waters for good, 
and right on cue, I hear the notification
that you have both heard, 

and through the start of the tears
that may have come down for days, 
my smile, just like that, returns
from your excited, happy emoji face, 

and upon my cheeks,
the sunless warmth is felt, 
and the flood recedes 
before fully rising out, 

and just like that, 
I feel the peace
like a rainbow promising
that both of your love
for me,
now two doubled-up,
will always be
my buoyancy 

in every real and unrealistic threat
of drowning. 

Poem and images ©Laura Denise

Puddle Abyss

Storm whisperer usually,
with arms outstretched,
welcoming the power
and harnessing it within,

sometimes the tempest
turns on me
and brings to the surface
things long buried 

and distorts my ability
with the stinging rain
to see clearly
through such blinding pain;

it is then that I tend to
collapse in the mirage of the puddle,
sinking fathoms deep
into the dark aqua-underworld,

forgetting how to breathe,
forgetting I have limbs,
forgetting I would float
despite forgetting how to swim.
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I sink in that puddle
to the bottomless grave,
Goddess of the Storms
reduced to sedimentary ache…

And then I hear your voice,
feel your hand, then embrace.
You have come to my aid
and to the surface, I am raised.

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Damn demonic puddle traps…
I should have watched better my steps…
Always looking up
careless again…

In your loving arms,
I get carried away.
You dry my soaked soul,
and together we pray.

You let me talk and cry it out
with such patience and understanding.
No one takes better care of me
in those times of such vulnerability.

I am me with you,
and you know all of me.
I unwrap your gift:
a snow globe of our dreams.

In front of our warm hearth,
I drift into the sweetest of sleep,
in the harbor of your arms,
the ripples of love lulling me,

and you stay on guard
to keep me safe,
but assure me all is well,
cradling me in your subtle strength.

I’ve never needed before,
have always taken on the world

solo.

I can get used to
being loved
by the only mate
for my soul.

Thank you, my love. ❤ 

Poem and images ©LauraDenise