pictured words

a simple pairing of pictures and poetry

Tag: Changes

May 10, 2020

DEAR MOM,

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DEAR MOM,

I wonder if you smiled after tucking me in at night, as I yelled, “I love you and I like you,” until I heard you reach the bottom of the stairs.

When I was in high school, you and I would often walk Naples’ beach. I told you how much I enjoyed our beach walks.  You told me I would get a boyfriend, and would no longer choose to walk the beach with you.  I got that boyfriend, and spent a great deal of my waking hours with him.

I wonder if you smiled each time I asked you to walk the beach with me.

Even through my teen years, you made sure you were home when I got home from school.  You didn’t want me coming home to an empty house. You stopped whatever you were doing, and took time to talk.  Even then, I understood the blessing of that.

I wonder if you smiled whenever you remembered me telling you I appreciated coming home to you.

I believe early Alzheimer’s began to separate you from yourself.  I think you recognized that, and feared eventual separation from all of us.  Perhaps that’s why you began saying, “I love you.  You know that.”  You wanted to make sure your love for us was so deeply rooted that there was little risk of it getting lost somewhere in a possible future of unknowingness.  You know that.  That little phrase attached to I love you was part of who you were.  Yes, we knew that. You were kind, and good.  You loved well.

I wonder if you smiled somewhere inside when I whispered, “I love you and I like you,” in those final days when you were growing less responsive.

© Marie Elena Good, 2020

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May 3, 2020

AWAITING WATERSHEDS 

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Photo by Keith R. Good

Every crisis in my life
has left expected tinges
I wish were erasable,
but also unforeseen traces
of the embraceable.

© Marie Elena Good, 2020

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April 26, 2020

PANDEMIC

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Imprint in Concrete photo by Keith R. Good

We’re navigating
necessary conversions
to our way of life.

Maybe we’ve traded
trite for substance.  And maybe
we can keep the change.

© Marie Elena Good, 2020

 

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April 25, 2020

UNTITLED SENRYU

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Image from demilked.com

Can we see from space
that a slower, simpler pace
is earth’s saving grace?

© Marie Elena Good, 2020

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April 23, 2020

SOCIALLY REWIRED IN NO TIME FLAT

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Photo courtesy of Pixabay

I’m all for the masks and hand-washing,
Keeping 6 feet away and not touching,
But for cryin’ out loud
I just gasped at the crowd
On the old T.V. show that I’m watching!

© Marie Elena Good, 2020

True story, y’all! LOL!

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April 11, 2020

OUR PRESENT DAY TWISTER

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“If I ever go looking for my heart’s desire again, I won’t look any further than my own back yard. Because if it isn’t there, I never really lost it to begin with.” ~ Dorothy Gal

The tempest we face today blows me away. It has twisted our world and what we chase.

As we shelter in place, the view from space shows a cleansing of the air we share. Sweet messages and charming drawings in chalk fill each walk, drive, and trail. Mailed letters are back “in” as they’ve not been in decades. Roller blades, bikes, and hikes, and sharing while distancing …

We are witnessing a change, as we rearrange the life we’d learned to expect. Soon we’ll reflect on the effect staying at home had on us. On our planet. And just as we began it, we’ll be back to activities with the liberties that define us.

I pray when we are no longer confined, we’ll continue to align with the gentler pace the shelter-in-place afforded. For we’ve been rewarded with renewed love of home and neighbor, and the favor of unexpected gifts in the midst of forced simplicity.

With misty eyes, I reflect on these affecting words from Oz. Let’s never return from what was.

 

© Marie Elena Good, 2020

The above quote that comes near the end of the Wizard of Oz, when Dorothy has returned home, has been a favorite of mine since I was a child.  I cannot voice it without choking up; cannot think of it without misty eyes.  The sentiment is heartwarming wisdom, and the wording is exceptional.  I wish I had written it.

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November 27, 2018

ROCKS, STREAMS, AND STORYTELLERS

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Photo by Keith R. Good

End-of-life
for those with whom we are particularly close,
seems to bring out who we are at our core.

Some of us are rocks.
Unbreakable.
Pillars.
Feeling the need to hold up all around us.
Or,
perhaps,
we just can’t let our surface crack,
lest we fall to pieces.

Some of us are streams.
We go with the flow,
while staying our course.
Occasionally we pick up others in need,
and carry them along.
But sometimes a stream’s flow
is fashioned from tears
that even a dam can’t contain.

Then some of us are storytellers.
We talk.
We laugh.
We reminisce.
We play familiarity like a piano concerto –
every part by heart.
We connect to those who are listening,
and telling stories of their own.
But can it be that we need to get lost in a story,
because the reality at hand
is too painful to fully embrace?

Let the rocks be strong.
But if they crack,
help them pick up the pieces.

Let the streams flow.
And if the tears run,
let them –
even as God collects
and records each one.

Let the storytellers recount,
and their experiences, count.
And if the present moment breaks them,
hold their pain
as a book in your embrace,
and help them tenderly
turn another page.

© Marie Elena Good, 2018

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September 6, 2017

I Am An Aging, Living Being

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No longer vibrant
smooth
-skinned strength, framed
on the nightstand

No longer quick
-witted or
-stepped
fluid in mind
agile in stride

No longer resourceful
proficient
a step ahead
with a head in the game

At times still life,
I am life, still

I am aging

living

being.

 

© Marie Elena Good, 2017

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June 13, 2016

TWIST HER

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Photo credit:  thedancingimage.blogspot

What changes would no twister bring?
Everything.

The wicked witch? I guarantee
Would still be

Ruby slipper’d, with stockings striped
Black and white.

Her Aunt Em’s home would not take flight
No straw psyche; no tin goodwill
Contentment would elude her still
And everything would still be black and white.

 

© Marie Elena Good, 2016

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