White Wings

White wings keep beating
when the heart and soul
begin to dim or slow.

Wings do not know
loss of hope.

Let wings carry you
until strength
and faith
regrow.

Let me be
those wings
for a while, for a leg
of the way
home…

Poem and image ©LauraDenise

Soaring Petals

I’ve always had wings
but longed for roots,
to feel snugly attached
in between passionate pursuits

of wild dreams
ablaze in color,
to pass through rainbows
while feeling home-tethered,

exposing the golden center
of a soul winged
but also resting
in love’s nest,
sweet tender cradling.

Spring Frosting

Frosted silver-blue in spring
ushers in eucalyptus dreams.
I inhale the heavenly possibilities
wafted through my senses
and altering my inner being,
frosting me with the sweet
scents of what can be
and what can never be lost,
centuries of hope long ago
and perpetually seeded
that spring up each annual season
despite the body’s expiration
sacrificed for the birthing
of eternal angel wings.
Every heart’s whisper,
every tear that ever watered,
becomes a part of me,
as I am a part of each,
all of us connected,
evidenced in these
ambrosial eucalyptus
leaves.

Poem and images ©LauraDenise

Ascension

I used to foolishly attempt

to trek around

the storms

to avoid them,

but the weather comes

regardless…

Eventually, I learned

some you must simply

forge through

and get it over with…

But then I remembered

the times upon

aluminum wings

I’ve flown,

and how the storms

appear the ceiling

only to those below.

It took a long while,

but I finally grew

wings of my own

and apply that lesson,

simply soar above

many of the dark clouds,

slip into that

blue-loophole

ascension…

Poem and image ©LauraDenise

Where It Soars

Freedom of the spirit,

the release of the heart,

lies within us all

in that potential-spark;

beneath the scars,

wrapped in chains,

the whisper persists

guarded by brain,

but only the heart

knows the direction,

can guide the way,

to authentic ever-after.

Hear the fear

to track its source.

Defeat the wraith.

Uncage the heart

and follow where it

soars.

Poem and image ©LauraDenise

Flight

There is a certain trust

that is birthed, it seems,

when we let go of those things,

the ones,

we are not meant to be gripping,

for the wind cannot carry

that which is so willfully tethered.

If we simply allow ourselves

to float and let go,

all that is meant for us individually

will work itself out.

I am in no hurry

and my hands are empty,

the pace and weight required, I think,

to be light enough to be picked up

by the breeze.

Buds & Cocoons

Buds and cocoons

can only contain

our potential for so long;

sooner or later,

we must bloom,

our colors don,

feel the rain

and the sun

upon petals and wings

and believe

that when we emerge,

love will be

waiting…