Song (Senryu)
Photo by Paul Bates (Pixabay)
You sang creation
into being. You “sang” me.
Lord, teach me my song.
© Marie Elena Good, 2020
pictured words
a simple pairing of pictures and poetry
Tag: Creator
August 2, 2020
October 24, 2019
HOCKING HILLS AUTUMN 2019 DAY 5 (2)
Photos by Marie Elena Good
Lovers and children
make paper hearts. God uses
all of creation.
(c) Marie Elena Good, 2019
#57519
#hockinghills
October 23, 2019
HOCKING HILLS AUTUMN 2019 DAY 4 (2)
Photo by Keith R. Good
Pigeons in Ash Cave
Sound more like humans trying
To sound pigeon-like. 😉
(c) Marie Elena Good 2019
#57519
#hockinghills
#ashcave
October 23, 2019
HOCKING HILLS AUTUMN 2019 DAY 4
Remember “Sky Blue?”
For me, it pales to fall’s skies
I call, “Autumn Blue.”
© Marie Elena Good 2019
#57519
#hockinghills
#ashcave
July 31, 2019
MY LORD AND MY GOD
Photo by Keith R. Good
When I breathe my last
I will see You face to face,
and life will begin.
© Marie Elena Good, 2019
May 5, 2019
MILKY WAY
In last night’s sky
I saw hundreds of stars
above me,
and I remembered
Michigan’s night sky,
when you and I stood
beneath not hundreds
but billions
or trillions
and I wished
I could take them home.
In last night’s sky
I saw hundreds of stars
above me.
Today, not even one.
Not even the sun.
But now?
Now, I know they are here –
billions
and trillions
and even the sun,
and even when I see
not even one.
And I see no need
to take them home,
for now I see
they are my home.
© Marie Elena Good, 2019
February 24, 2019
ENDOWED, ALL
When I consider He who made all things,
In awe, I bow before this King of kings –
This One whose creativity’s arrayed,
And in whose image, we have all been made.
Creator, He, and so creators, we.
He gifted us with this ability.
So all creative ways point to our God.
Let us then recognize, give thanks, and laud.
© Marie Elena Good, 2019
October 28, 2018
Rise up, my soul!
Photo by Marie Elena Good
Spirit bestows it –
Worship swells from the Wellspring.
Oh my soul, take part!
Would that this poet
rise up and sing like the king
after God’s own heart!
© Marie Elena Good
October 24, 2018
A Creator’s Palette (Sonnet to The Artist)
Reflections of autumn’s trees on Rose Lake in Ohio’s Hocking Hills region. Photo credit: Keith R. Good
Describing “yellow” leaves in fall, for me,
Does not at all depict their cheerful gleam
As sunlight spills as liquid through the trees,
And they themselves could light the day, it seems.
So also “orange” can’t describe the bliss
That autumn’s gorgeous vista just compels.
And though I can’t rename it, I know this:
Fall’s celebrated color casts its spells.
My favored autumn shades though are the reds:
From rosy blush to crimson, fire-and-iced.
They fairly flaunt and flame as they turn heads.
There’s no way common “red” would have sufficed.
How can we label paints and pens of God
That leave us reverential, praise-filled, awed ?
© Marie Elena Good, 2018
FOR POETIC BLOOMINGS AUTUMNAL POEM-A-DAY CHAPBOOK CHALLENGE, 2018, DAY 11: CRIMSON
April 7, 2018
PUNK
I sat at the left end of a long
cafeteria-like table.
No food before me,
no scent of food.
My eyes focused on something
in my hands, which
I cannot now recall.
Forward and to my right,
old fashioned, quilt-look, diner-style
double swinging doors
open.
I glance up
smile
glance back down,
before my heart quickens in my chest
and I look back up.
“Punk!” barely escapes my lips –
more air than voice
as our eyes engage –
His,
smiling, crinkling at the sides.
Mine,
misting as my lips quiver.
He comes to me,
his cadence the same as my heart
remembers.
“Punk!” barely escapes again
as we hug.
His scent and chuckle,
unchanged.
His breath moves my hair.
His familiar voice in my ear speaks only a few words:
“What do you want to know?”
An unexpected question.
My heart quickens again.
What do I need to know?
“Punk, I just want one more hug.”
He backs up
just enough for me to feel his warm hands
on my cheeks.
I can see only his smiling eyes.
I look into them, and see
everything.
It can’t be explained any other way.
Everything.
In less than a moment.
Everything that ever was
seen
felt
heard
known
unknown,
is now
ever will be.
The beauty of it all filled me full.
Left me no words.
He gave me one last hug,
walked to the double doors,
glanced back with those smiling eyes,
and walked back through.
And the living live the here and now,
but those who have passed
and are alive in Christ,
know.
© Marie Elena Good, 2018
