Flowers in our Hands

Flowers in our Hands

Sitting among the ashes

Of what was

Fooling ourselves 

To believe it is all still here 

Imagining the walls                           

And listening to them talk

Seeing their stories 

And trying to live them again

We are blind to what is growing 

Before our eyes 

Too focused on 

Charred flowers in our hands

We see the blossoms 

As they were

And desperately ignore 

What they haven't become 

Why do we waste 

Our time 

On fools dreams 

And fools eyes 

Why don't we stop 

Stop tricking ourselves 

Into being blind to 

What we know 

If we keep remembering 

Keep wanting 

We will foolishly 

Waste our powers 

~Lauren~

The Puppet

The Puppet

With placid, painted smile and dull,
opaque eyes, the puppet watches
the lost child play.
Cavorting about the fire
The familiar roller-coaster playing
In his scattered mind.
He jumps, grasps at thin, silvery
Wisps of smoke floating past
Taunting his hand.
Ferocious, the little boy tries
To trap the whispers, all the while
Crushing them in a
White-knuckled grip.

The fire dims and the ghosts drift on,
A broken boy falls to the ground,
Utter bewilderment flickering
Across his face.
A moment of surrender and abandon
Turns vulnerability into impenetrable
Walls, begging to be conquered.
Cautiously, the puppet stares on,
Willing the boy's mouth to open
And speak.
Suddenly, the boy reaches up
Snatching the figurine as a
Worthless trinket.
He opens its mouth and expects
What he wants to hear
But the pawn fails,
Having been pulled and twisted
Into silence.

Indignant and ignorant to his own
Muted mouth, he tosses the doll aside.
Standing, the boy who is forgetting
Wanders off in pursuit of insanity.
The lost child's plaything remains,
A silent, desperate cry escaping
It's placid, painted smile
A reflection of the decimated boy lingering
In it's dull, opaque eyes.


~Lauren~

Innocent Love

Innocent Love

A heart whose love is innocent
does not expect the sting
of disappointment.
Pouring out its grace
intending for it to be
accepted
freely giving its affection
never asking for anything
in return.
Those hearts are happy
blindly trusting, caring,
loving
ignorant to the pain life brings
shielded from adversity.
Soon, the hearts will be
broken,
destroying the joy
forever.
They will look upon
the young
and envy
their innocence.

Sometimes

Sometimes

Sometimes, our most passionate cries are the ones that no one hears. We scream, begging for an escape from the shadows. We believe that even just a moment alone in the light would silence those pleas, at least for a time.

Sometimes, what we need isn't comfort, but assurance. Affirmation of what makes us different. What will eventually pull us out of the darkness and into the open where we have a chance to shine.

Sometimes, stepping aside and letting someone else have the admiration is what we are called to do. Believing that it is there time and refusing to wish it was yours takes humble strength. The power to push aside jealousy and a need for recognition to be sincerely happy for and proud of them rather than succumbing to self-pity.

Sometimes, we must learn that humility will shine brighter, speak louder, impact deeper, and offer more assurance and strength than recognition ever could.

Always, we need to realize that, while it isn't our time just yet, our time is coming and we must be prepared to live as if we were in the shadows, even when we are at the center of the light.


~Lauren

Castle

Took this picture a while ago but I thought it was really interesting to see the slow destruction of the castle as the waves came in. Kind of intriguing and thought-provoking.

~Lauren~

Dark and Light

Dark and Light

Flowers sway gracefully in the breeze
            Harsh winds howl
As sunshine settles softly on the meadow
            And crackling leaves join in the tortured cries
A splash of white flits among the sanguine blossoms
            A shadow crashes through the forest
Twirling elegantly through the grass
            Leaving destruction in his path
The dancer's dress moves delicately with the wind
            Darkness is his identity
Her hair blows softly about her face
            Trailing behind him as he travels
Bright blue eyes peer from her young visage
            Fire rages in his eyes
As a dainty smile plays at the corners of her mouth
            A grimace frozen on his face
She pours joy and passion into her dance
Performing for her quiet audience of flowers
            He stalks his prey fervently
            And intends to eliminate the light

~Lauren Leising

The Masquerade

The Masquerade 

Broken we hide
Searching for substance
In the face of every mask we see
Only to discover
The truth has been 
Beautifully disguised

Terrified
We wear our masks
Creating the image we think we see 
While secretly 
We hate the disguises
Despise the horrible perfection

We passionately try to remove ourselves
From the others
Make our masks different
Claiming them to be true

Deception 
Appears beautiful 
Through the eyes of a mask
The opaque holes allowing 
A clear view only of what we are given to see

Our king gives us the ability to see 
Through certain masks
In hopes that we may 
Expose
One another 
Help each other remove
Our Masks

Someone sees through yours
They are looking for the chance to remove it
Will you give it to them?

The Sparrow

The Sparrow

It sits Caged Waiting for fresh air To fill its wings And take it over the cedars

Restlessly, it hums To itself It's "what if's" and "maybe's" Inaudible to the simple eye

How nice it would be To be at the tip of the arrow Soaring forward

The little bird waits Watching, listening Looking for the encouraging breeze And dreaming of joy

Ready to fly alone With the wind Ready to climb toward the sun And lead an army with me

~ Lauren