BRANCHING OUT (AN AMERICAN SENTENCE)
When the time comes to branch out, we mustn’t fear going out on a limb.
© Marie Elena Good, 2021
pictured words
a simple pairing of pictures and poetry
Tag: Changes
January 10, 2021
May 10, 2020
DEAR MOM,
DEAR MOM,
I wonder if you smiled after tucking me in at night, as I yelled, âI love you and I like you,â until I heard you reach the bottom of the stairs.
When I was in high school, you and I would often walk Naplesâ 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 didnât 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 Alzheimerâs began to separate you from yourself. I think you recognized that, and feared eventual separation from all of us. Perhaps thatâs why you began saying, âI love you. You know that.â 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, âI love you and I like you,â in those final days when you were growing less responsive.
© Marie Elena Good, 2020
May 3, 2020
AWAITING WATERSHEDSÂ
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
April 26, 2020
PANDEMIC
Imprint in Concrete photo by Keith R. Good
Weâre navigating
necessary conversions
to our way of life.
Maybe weâve traded
trite for substance. And maybe
we can keep the change.
© Marie Elena Good, 2020
April 25, 2020
UNTITLED SENRYU
Image from demilked.com
Can we see from space
that a slower, simpler pace
is earthâs saving grace?
© Marie Elena Good, 2020
April 23, 2020
SOCIALLY REWIRED IN NO TIME FLAT
Photo courtesy of Pixabay
Iâm all for the masks and hand-washing,
Keeping 6 feet away and not touching,
But for cryinâ out loud
I just gasped at the crowd
On the old T.V. show that Iâm watching!
© Marie Elena Good, 2020
True story, yâall! LOL!
April 11, 2020
OUR PRESENT DAY TWISTER
âIf 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.â ~ 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 âinâ as theyâve not been in decades. Roller blades, bikes, and hikes, and sharing while distancing âŠ
We are witnessing a change, as we rearrange the life weâd learned to expect. Soon weâll reflect on the effect staying at home had on us. On our planet. And just as we began it, weâll be back to activities with the liberties that define us.
I pray when we are no longer confined, weâll 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. Letâs 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.
November 27, 2018
ROCKS, STREAMS, AND STORYTELLERS
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 canât 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 streamâs flow
is fashioned from tears
that even a dam canât contain.
Then some of us are storytellers.
We talk.
We laugh.
We reminisce.
We play familiarity like a piano concerto â
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
September 6, 2017
I Am An Aging, Living Being
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
June 13, 2016
TWIST HER
Photo credit: Â thedancingimage.blogspot
What changes would no twister bring?
Everything.
The wicked witch? I guarantee
Would still be
Ruby slipperâd, with stockings striped
Black and white.
Her Aunt Emâs 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
pictured words 