Overbloomed

Overbloomed, drooped,
raised head falls
into yesterday’s tears
pooled.

Waiting, weighted,
to regroup.
Have faith.
Whether or not
growing gets blocked
at the top and the
root.

The Gardener
has no flesh
to wear gloves,
but His hands
will cup and lift
to transplant
with love.

Poem and image ©LauraDenise

Dimensions

My heart and soul
tire me out,
always frolicking
away and about,

relentless in their
prodding and searching,
no toe-dips,
just all-in swan-diving

into every unknown,
exploring, testing, challenging
the boundaries
of this world,

restless to breach
every deterrence
placed by societal rules
and norms…

So much fear
in potential soulmates
with whom to travel
these magical non-roads.