Artificial light
will suffice
when I employ
on quiet walks
my creative devices
to make art
during heart-
survival crises

until it all naturally passes,
as all weather is designed to do;
I need to do better with storm preparations,
though He always sees ahead and sees me 

Tonight, to distract
with creative play,
I replace and extend
a stem with manmade

until the flower becomes a tower,
and then I ignite the beacon,
and let the moon console 
a lonely orb romantic-dreaming.

I do these magnificent things
not only to take focus away from the pain 
but because it gives me the control and power 
as an abuse-survivor to manipulate 
in a positive way. 

I do it for you, but really and also 
for me, selfishly, 
but if you and I both need it, 
how comforting it then becomes for us
to become “we.” 

You’ve been here too, 
I know, as I have been there, 
not these same tracks
but in the aches that echo,

December Pinks

The pink blooms I never planted
are more beautiful than ever
as I return rejuvenated
to the patio in December.

Autumn has rained
its traditional hues too;
warmth in the setting sun
dries a wet spell of the blues.

I am tickled by the message
of the southern bell for whom it tolls,
waking the possibilities in me
of choosing the way it goes.

I’ll keep growing these pink blooms
even if they get winter-taken,
for I’ve reseeded in my heart
a season of hope to never end.


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
like sidewalk chalk 
in the rain,
and we drift
without care
into the storm. 


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

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. 

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


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, 
we will ride
this wave

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

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

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

The Green Returns

The green returns
as sure as the sun;
the seasons keep spinning,
web-weaved by the One.

There must be a purpose
for the phases of the heart,
like the moon always whole
but only showing certain parts.

Shadows and winter and
stormy weather undesired,
but without feeling the chill,
what would be the motivation
to light the fire? 

What could wake, shake, and
empower my soul
if not for the thunder’s
inciting rolls? 

How could the beacon
so clearly light the way
without the shadowing trees
contrasting and parting
for the ray?

The green returns
as sure as the sun:
my heart turns again
in its revolution. 

Thank you, love, for being there for me in each of my seasons. 

Poetry and images ©LauraDenise

Fickle Forecast

I woke this morning with the burden of a something weighing on me. I immediately called upon God. I had to ask for something very specifically, something I rarely do, for I usually just have blind faith in His plan, having let go of trying to understand any of it. And when I talk to God these days, it is usually just to express gratitude for my blessings. He already answered my most desperate plea a couple years ago.

My prayer is often just randomly talking aloud to God at any time. (I still drop to my knees, hands folded, eyes closed, too, though.) I caught myself using this phrase this morning, “I’m just trying to take care of myself.” I think that statement surprised me, and I felt both myself and God smiling a bit. He was probably thinking, “Well, it is about time, my dear child.” Maybe I am slow to have things sink in. Maybe I get in the way of His plan way too much.

I am a mother of two. I was married to an alcoholic for decades. I am a peacemaker in my family tree. I am a people-pleaser. I don’t like to hurt anyone’s feelings. I don’t like conflict. Only in the past couple of years have I started taking care of myself, most of that has been healing from all I have repressed and suppressed for as long as I can remember.

I felt that old weight upon me briefly this morning. After turning to God, I could not help but be distracted by the pinkish-orangish glow coming in through the blinds. It lured me outside. It doesn’t take much to do that though.

Here’s what I witnessed…

If you know anything at all about me, you know I am absolutely sky-obsessed. To add to this early-morning glory, the air temperature and humidity was refreshing due to yesterday evening’s brief but spectacular storm. The breeze whisked the colorful clouds along and roused my spirit, it fluttering in response deep inside.

What had been weighing on my mind and heart was nowhere to be found.

Soon, the refreshing, rinsing light rain came, though the sky remained sunny and bright blue. I knew what that meant and smiled in response to yet another double rainbow spanning my yard. The great thing about a rainbow is that it seems personal, like it is only in your yard, like it was sent specifically for you at the precise time you could use a little extra color and reminder.

On the side of my house, I can be completely under the trees. It is where my flower bushes are. It is a very tiny little paradise to me in my fantasy mind. Sadly, disease just took over the flower bushes, so photographing the last of the blooms was bittersweet. (I do not know anything about gardening; these were here when I moved in six years ago.)

Nature and life cycles though, and a new flower tree, among other new life, has bloomed in its place. I will have to replace these flower bushes though because they have become sentimental to me. The blooms in my yard all seem to coincide their individual opening at times that are significant to me.

I found this double bloom especially intriguing, to the eye and in its meaning, the story within…

The contrast of the rain and sun, the beauty of the blooms, the not-so-rare rainbow always seemingly nearby me these days…oh how far away they took me from my troubles. Yes, that morning worldly/material situation still exists, and I have to return to it. So is it worth escaping from it for a while? Yes! Because the composition of my stored tears threatening to spill over has changed. I am so filled with peace and awe and gratitude and joy; and that kind of overflow feels airy instead of heavy, helium instead of a yoke.

All of the weather changes made for quite the distraction. And that is how it always goes, what is so great to me about nature. The changes of seasons, the changes in weather, the changes in the sky, all of the creatures, flowers and waters, the beauty in details, the breathtaking views…it is all there for us, gifted so lovingly and generously for us, free of charge, accessible to all. I truly believe in nature’s healing powers, and I don’t know why its magic medicine is not taken by every single person. We only must observe it, breathe it in, cause it no harm.

I thought about putting up a new category, “Faith,” on my blog, but I realized, much like nature and inspiration, that faith is deeply ingrained and overlapping in everything for me. I am not a Jesus-preacher, not very religious, but I am deeply spiritual, and I have always, always had my higher power, God, right beside me. I have been through some dark and lonely times, but I have never been alone. And I have been resilient.

Because I have always had faith and nature. And to me, they are too intertwined to ever be separated.

Thank you, God, for all that you have so lovingly created.

All words and images on this site ©LauraDenise

Stormy-Day Joy

I headed to the beach this morning after a second day of such a cool mix of cumulous and storm clouds. I love storms so was hoping I might catch one rolling in from the gulf. With the added sea breeze, it was actually comfortable out.

I didn’t quite make it all the way there, as my car veered to the shoulder after the bridge to take in some beautiful bay scenery. I was upset to find I had left my Canon memory card at home. I still had my iPhone though, which is what I use far too often. I just wouldn’t be able to zoom in on any seabirds.

(All of the images in this post are unedited.)



The other day, a huge double rainbow appeared over my backyard. I was telling a friend afterwards about how mesmerized I have been at how many rainbows occur down here, how I saw maybe two my whole life up north, but here they happen all of the time. Often, they occur at the perfect times, it seems. You can imagine my delight when I turned around and saw this one this morning…


I finally decided, after spending quite some time at the bay, that I should get to the beach. It looked like the sky over the ocean would be all boring gray, but I figured I’d go the rest of the way. I could use some time there, with or without photo ops.


I snapped a few images and then, after wading in the water, sat down in the sand at the water’s edge to enjoy the serenity (and occasionally take more photos and videos). The sea seemed especially emerald today, adding to all of the beautiful shades of sea and sky.











On my way back, I explored the beach further up, away from the water. And you are not going to believe what I found!! White blooms growing in the sand!! (You know a poem is coming now in my next post…)







It was not your typical “good day” to go the beach, but boy, am I glad I did! I felt the urge, the calling, if you will. If you follow my writing, you know I have been deeply connected to white blooms for a couple of years now. Today, especially after yesterday’s white blooms in the park, seemed liked evidence that rainbows and white blooms are simply starting to follow me now, and I read a lot into that! It filled me with such meaningful, personal joy.

I wonder if it is as spectacular of an occurrence as I am making it out to be, or if my outlook, my perception, my focus, my soul has simply been changing in my journey to a more authentic me… Maybe both. But I refuse to believe it is neither.