Tag: Sunset
Out
Like when I was a child
looking at the ceilings
upside down,
I still invert what’s above
to challenge the limits
of ground and touch.
Now I’m venturing
beyond the sky,
following the path
of clouds…
I wonder if I’ve always been searching
for a way
out.
Poem and image ©LauraDenise
Drifting
Focusing on the edges
blurs out the sun,
but drifting into reflections
makes it drown.
So I’ll try again
to arrange
the composition
to slowly allow the flames
to warm the hearth
from within.
Poem and images ©LauraDenise
Returning To The River
Returning to the river
cautiously
for the first time since you drained it
from my happy memories.
Unplanned,
but the sky beckoned,
so I translated it
as a loving nudging
from the heavens
that the timing
was personally pre-approved, selected,
to make peace again
with my nature,
so dearly beloved.
This adventure
of my own, I began
and descended
down the road
beneath the bridge;
on the other side,
sandaled feet in sand,
it was a fallen tree
that first held me
so tenderly captive,
as I slowly drew
my therapy weapon,
seizing the sun itself
in my aimed lenses,
creating the art,
selecting the perspectives,
as my subjects so selflessly lended
themselves to manipulations.
Tri-colored trunks
and branches I braided
around a knot of light
to hold the center
of this soulful oasis.
Then, as if with x-ray vision,
or simply a gift to hear nature
in the language of revelation,
I saw the inner glow
of life after another death,
or maybe the asomatous mending
of a damaging past,
and, too, the beautiful reminder
that through the thick and barred,
and shadowed solids,
the rays and fires
of hope and passion
can always reach
those who desire them.
I have desired
but have not known how
to get back to my nature
nor my self
since the impact
of the last explosion
left too deep within
the shrapnel
bereft of reparations.
In a window,
in the distance,
the legendary River Deer leaps
into the sunset,
and in its landing
after the eclipse,
a second sun is left
as both a back up and a
genesis.
The clouds in the river
pave alternative
paths for me,
and the bisolar rays
upon the Oracle Tree
leave an evanescent ember map
breathing…
Poem and images ©LauraDenise
Golden Become
Golden become the leaves
part from equinox,
not from autumn yet
but the hour before the fall.
Immersing in Moments
Later, soon, tomorrow…
always risky
putting off
what the heart
longs to sing,
to say…
our lights, eternal,
but earthtime measured
in sand and dust
and strings Atropos cuts,
footprints tide-washed away.
So let’s stop
and sit awhile,
my friend.
How have you been?
Kettle whistles,
Columbian grounds,
deep sofa,
phones down.
Let’s wrap ourselves
in the comfort
of the softest colors
of love,
quilting our story.
Let’s stay too long.
Poem and image ©LauraDenise
Wildly Beyond
The sky is not
the limit
but the start;
the sun
never sets,
just lends
its rays west
and the stage
to the stars.
Wildflowers cannot
be weeded if
they sprout
from the heart;
you cannot stop mine
from rising beyond
the highest heights
of love.
Beyond The Window
Looking out my bedroom window
a long while, late on a spring day,
opposite weather inside of me,
a seductive swirling veil of gray,
to choose which to follow,
if either non-path at all,
takes the breaking of the trance
when both come so subtly to call.
I didn’t wait for the new day;
I chose the remainder at hand,
clipped the leash to the too-excited dog,
laced my sneakers and simply began.
I let a trickle of hope in
on the way to the pond
to stir the stagnant layer
hovering weightless
but still clouding
my heart.
Perhaps I could find
beauty or love or both
in my always-open lens
that filters and feeds
light to soul.
I did. For it is always there.
Mother Nature never folds
her extended arms;
She unconditionally heals,
cares.
I knew a new day
would soon come
tomorrow,
and all would
feel better again,
but the thing about
choice and action is
that Momentum
can also be a dear
friend.
I did not wait for New Day.
I drank the sunset medicine instead.
It brought me soft romance
and a happy non-end.
Poem and images ©LauraDenise
Hollowed
The pull of the day,
of the years,
of everyone’s needs
leaves shadows
and cavities
from ebb’s
never-ending
taking,
but the sun’s
reflection
warms me
in oranges,
and the glow
stays.
The light
one way
or another
will
illuminate,
independent of
ever reaching
that haunted,
hollowed
space.
Poem and images ©LauraDenise
Dandelion Canopies
You’ll find her beneath
the dandelion canopy,
refueling her yellow,
feeding her sunny,
nectar for her sappy,
when the sun is setting,
the crazy nature girl
bending, squatting,
making magic
out of “nothing.”
Witnesses stop asking
what she’s doing.
Make fun of her
but don’t interrupt
the wildflower child
when she’s crouched,
hair dangling down
in the dirt,
as roots reach up
to genially greet her.
Never mind her
echo to the birds
or her silly grin
as she whispers
to unseen
chimerical creatures.
You’ll find her beneath
the dandelion canopy
filling her heart’s fancy
with macro memories.
Poem and images ©LauraDenise