pictured words

a simple pairing of pictures and poetry

Month: December, 2022

December 25, 2022

King of Uncommon Love

Photo by Juan Carlos Leva on Pexels.com

“Let earth receive her King.” 

King of Uncommon Love

Where are the humble kings?
Those who do nothing
     but what their father tells them to do?
Where are those who set aside power
who leave glory
who serve
who wash the feet
     of friend and foe
who wear sandals
who cook fish on the shore
who feed multitudes
     with a few fish and rolls
who change water to wine
    for wedding guests
who walk with, feed, and touch
    those deemed unclean
who spend time
    with those others shun
who come not to judge,
     but to save
who give their lives for their people.
Where is a King of uncommon love?
Look to a manger.
Look to a cross.
Then come.
Come,
     let us adore Him.

© Marie Elena Good, 2022

Leave a comment
December 23, 2022

2022 Bomb Cyclone Christmas (to the tune of White Christmas)

Photo by Temo Berishvili on Pexels.com


Prelude:
     The wind is howling,
     as temps dip low
     and birdfeeders whirl and weave.
     Tomorrow is Christmas Eve.
     We’re hosting here, I believe.

     But we’ve a Bomb Cyclone
     on our hands,
     and it threatens to wreck our plans.

We’re dreaming of a white Christmas,
but not quite like the one on tap
where each wind gust threatens
to hurl its weapons
and blues fill our weather map.

We’re dreaming of a white Christmas,
with fam’ly here tomorrow night.
We have lots of yummies
to fill our tummies,
but safe travel’s not in sight.

We’re dreaming of a white Christmas
but winds are sweeping off the snow
‘til no treetop glistens.
White-out conditions
make car travel a no-go.

We may not have a white Christmas,
but we have power on inside.
Water pipes did not burst.
It could be much worse,
so we’ll take it all in stride.

Still hoping Christmas Eve happens
and safely we can gather here
for some much sought-after
food, fun, and laughter,
and we can spread some Christmas cheer!

© Marie Elena Good, 2022

2 Comments
December 22, 2022

Don’t ask me how

Photo by Nadezhda Moryak on Pexels.com

Don’t Ask Me How

there are things my brain knows,
but doesn’t tell me.

Or maybe there is a disconnect
between this side of my brain
and the other side.

Like years ago
when I helped a friend bake
potato chip cookies
to take to my cousin later that night.
Somewhere, my brain knew he was
getting work training on the other side
of the country.
But not the part of my brain
helping my friend bake.  That part
might as well have been with my cousin
on the other side of the country.

Or that time in the shower
an hour ago
when I was thinking about
hosting Christmas Eve,
praying the weather holds out
and guests are safe in travel.  Praying
for these guests that are my family –
my daughter and her family
my cousins and their grown kids
and their little children

and the sudden slap of that’s all.

No grandparents.  No aunts and uncles.
No parents. 

Now, that’s us. 

My brain knows this.
It intimately knows this information
that it didn’t share with me
until the shower started searching
for tears.

Don’t ask me how.

© Marie Elena Good, 2022

Leave a comment
December 18, 2022

GIFT

GIFT

What is the best gift but food for one who is hungry, and drink for one who thirsts? For those who feel most unlovable, love feels most crucial, yet most inaccessible. For those who’ve done wrong, the most meaningful gift is forgiveness in full.  For this, God set His power aside to be born of a virgin as a helpless newborn boy, reliant on a woman’s breast for nourishment, heart for love, and her tutelage and care for survival and growth.  For this, Christ Jesus came: to feed, to love, to quench, and to fully forgive.  

The extravagance
of the season, embodied:
God wrapped in infant.

© Marie Elena Good, 2022

(Full disclosure: I decided to write this haibun, using the final 17 syllables I’d written many years ago. May the Gift of this season settle into your own heart.)

Leave a comment
December 4, 2022

Now, we wait

Painting by Akiane Kramarik

“The world waits for a miracle. The heart longs for a little bit of hope.”  ~ Light of the World, Lauren Daigle

Now, We Wait.

His feet left Paradise to touch earth’s soil 
as we, embroiled in distress,
tried to access His heart.
Some walked with Him, 
and He unlocked their closed souls - 
leaving their lack exposed
and showing them His plenty
in the face of His poverty.  
They learned Him.  They loved Him. 
But the moment He upturned death,
they truly knew Him.
And now, we wait for His return.
We yearn for the Prince of Peace to increase, 
and our anguish, decrease.
Light of the World, right us.
Lift us.  Gift us hearing ears,
seeing eyes, 
and hope, 
realized.  

© Marie Elena Good, 2022


P.S.  I LOVE this painting!
Leave a comment