
The light is ever-present,
yet it speaks to me
most deeply
when it flickers
in whispers
between the trees.
Poet. Writer. Photographer.

The light is ever-present,
yet it speaks to me
most deeply
when it flickers
in whispers
between the trees.
The road may be hard, bumpy, cracked, broken…

but in that perceived destruction are the pieces

that make up the whole, and beneath and between it all… lies life.

Every morning, the sun rises, the same yet anew,

and uses yesterday’s rain to remind us


that the light and the green will always find a way through

to you.
Words and images ©LauraDenise
It is inevitable
that a sun must set,
must sink
out of view,
bringing darkness,
signaling that a day
is through.

So it is with the things
that come to pass,
regardless of our will
or grasp;
some things simply
get laid to rest.
But just because
a sun, a heart,
sinks doesn’t mean
there will be nothing
able to rise
from the perceived demise,
for life
continues on,
light and hope
will inevitably rise,

for the circle
of goodbyes-for-now
are inexplicably intertwined
with new hesitant hellos
in divine timelines unknown,
unable to be perceived
from such ignorant perspectives,
for we are all but glorious specks
confused in an organized cosmos.
We don’t see the significance
of the setting sun synchronized
with the rising moon,

for The One who created all of this
did so out of love,
making sure the darkness
never completely covers us.
The light is ever-present
even when we are absent.
There is always something rising
as something else sets.
Even if we fail at the time
to see it.
Trust in a loving, larger
picture.
Poem and (unedited) images ©LauraDenise

I feel powerful
when I position the sun
and have it rest
newly hatched
in a tree-top nest
in the foreground of the
blue beyond.
We all have that power,
you know,
not just photographers.
The light is always present.
It is us who turns away
and back again,
spinning and revolving
on our individual and shared axes.
In the palm of our hands
is the glow we can hold
of either the sun or the moon
with a simple perspective shift.
Reach for it now
with both hands
and gently cradle it.
Let it soak in
to your soul
and light every dark
corner.
We can all
hold it at once,
even share it.
The light is ever-present.
Restore your mental energy
with it.
Poem and image ©LauraDenise

The sun shares its rays
indiscriminately,
reaching the shadows
through trees,
fully embracing
wild grasses
and weeds,
as beacons of hope,
a needed ingredient
for growth,
highlighting the beauty
already existing,
air-brushing landscapes
with yellows
and white,
causing heads to turn
toward the nature
and light,
away from the
clouded thoughts
darkening minds
above the hearts’
subtle beating,
rising as a drumline,
beckoning us
to wake inside
and follow in line
from want,
to be a part
of the calling,
not knowing
exactly where everyone’s headed
but knowing
something great,
long-awaited,
is up ahead,
and slowly
but mindfully,
the soul pulls us
closer to that glorious
revelation.
Image and poem ©Laura Denise

Self-forgiveness
is the pure and delicate bloom
that once again opens
after the storm,
after the battering
of the downpour
and the damage
from the winds,
after near-drowning
from the relentless rain,
the flower,
head bowed in disgrace
and pain,
summons up the strength
to peek its petal open,
wondering if the sun
has gone
forever,
but a ray
makes its way
to flower’s cheek,
dries the drops
and warms
the air,
giving flower the courage
to raise her head,
and sun and flower
make amends,
leading flower to forgive
herself,
and a fresh new day
begins.
Poem and image ©LauraDenise