pictured words

a simple pairing of pictures and poetry

Category: Robert Lee Brewer’s April Poem-a-Day Challenge, 2017

April 6, 2017

HEARING IS NOT THE SAME AS LISTENING

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Photo by Keith R. Good

“Hearing is Not the Same as Listening” ~ Sarah Elizabeth (my young, wise, single-mom cousin)

Grunts, yelps, shrieks,
laughs, and cries
are Kenzie’s only tools of communication.
But this morning was different.
This morning, as Sarah readied the children for school,
the pattern of Kenzies “noise” sounded suddenly familiar.
All preparations halted, as Sarah began to sing
lines from a Veggie Tales movie.

Kenzie made eye contact.

EYE CONTACT.

Then Sarah and Kenzie began alternating lines.

No one has heard Kenzie utter a word in years.
Yet all this time she has been singing, unnoticed.

And now Sarah will sing with Kenzie
a hundred times in an hour
if that’s what she wants.

In the cacophony of life,
listen
and hear
cadence,
harmony,
and even dissonance.
For sometimes a solo
hungers for harmony.

© Marie Elena Good, 2017

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April 6, 2017

Last Sunday

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Photo by Deanna Marie Metts

The sermon was on forgiveness.  My mind was as blank as the 3 x 5 card, on which we were encouraged to write the name of someone we need to forgive.  Surely there is someone in my life in need of my forgiveness.  I can think of no one.  Not one.  I contemplated and prayed in intervals, while listening to the sermon.

“Marie, I don’t need your forgiveness.”

Though inaudible, the sudden voice was clear, adamant, and authoritative … and just as full of love and understanding as anything I could imagine.  At first, I argued.

“Of COURSE there is nothing to forgive! You are my GOD!”

How tender a God
who loves me as I hold Him
accountable.

 

© Marie Elena Good, 2017

2 Comments
April 5, 2017

SYRIA (Sonnet for the Severed Souls)

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The images.  The videos. The news.
The view from here is simply that – a view.
For I can just ignore it if I choose –
Not take in what I’ll wish I never knew.

But you?  You watch your babies breathe their last
while hospitals are bombed before your eyes,
and lifeless neighbors’ bodies are amassed.
You plead for help to long-obscure allies.

I want to send for you, and beg you come –
To sing soft lullabies to sooth your sleep.
But see, you are a fearsome threat to some.
That takes me to my knees to heave and weep.

While dead and dying lie within your reach,
Your wails are hushed by those whom you beseech.

 

© Marie Elena Good, 2017

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