pictured words

a simple pairing of pictures and poetry

Tag: Faith

MY SPIRIT’S SONG (a poem with wrapped refrains)

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Image by Colin Behrens, courtesy of Pixabay 

I’ve often said it is no toss
‘tween loss of sight or hearing loss.
for music is to me as bread.
It feeds my soul, I’ve often said.

My heart beats to a melody –
a bond abiding breathlessly
as harmonies are coursing through,
in tune with what my heart beats to.

And I believe when angels sing,
our parched earth sips from worship’s spring
to praise a God we can’t conceive.
They catch my ear, and I believe.

It need not be a “worship song”
to lift my eyes and make me long
to sit upon my Father’s knee,
and see my worries need not be.

Should I not hear jazz beat of drum,
or soothing sound from cello’s strum –
Good Father, hearer of my prayer,
please sing to me, should I not hear.

© Marie Elena Good, 2020

 

 

 

 

 

RELATIONSHIP

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This is an age of unbroken connection.
Our fingertips tap into instant links.
We’ve little tolerance for imperfection,
And as our ego grows, our goodwill shrinks.

And in this age of unbroken connection,
Our face-to-face relationships have waned.
Resulting loss of physical affection
May render us emotionally maimed.

Now suddenly a time of social distance
Is thrust upon us necessarily.
Most look for ways to be of some assistance,
And find these ways, extraordinarily.

I’m thankful in this time of social distance
For God, who binds my drifting heart to His.
Our Father God pursues us with persistence.
Be still, and let Him show you who He is.

© Marie Elena Good, 2020

Quick note: My last three lines include words and truths from scripture, and from a long-loved hymn, as follows:

“Come Thou Fount of Every Blessing” by Robert Robinson includes the phrase of prayer, “Bind my wandering heart to thee.”

The Bible overflows with God’s pursuit of us, including Psalm 139.

Psalm 46:10 tells us, “Be still, and know that I am God.”

Second Week of February (an Ekphrastic poem)

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It has been four years
since we nearly lost Izzy,
our grandbaby girl.

It has been two years
since my mother passed on to
the heavenly realm.

Now my son-in-law’s
mother is hospitalized,
fighting for her life.

The second week of
the second month of each year
feels like a movie –

a film I am in,
but choose to view from a safe
distance. Unseated.

© Marie Elena Good, 2020

CRUTCHES

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Photo by Daniel Nebreda, at Pixabay

Call faith what you will –
a crutch, if it helps me stand
on my principles.

(c) Marie Elena Good, 2020

DEANNA (BRIGHT AS DAY)

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Freehand original art by Deanna Marie Metts

Her light was dimmed years ago. Everything she enjoyed was taken from her.  Books.  Music.  Art.  NY Times crosswords. Energy. Drive. Laughter. All of it, gone.  All of it.  But in God’s timing and in His way, the expression of herself through her art has been returned.  Not in the same way, but brand new, as God renewed her spirit and drew her to Himself.  Rekindling her light with His own, she is never truly alone.   New Spirit. New Light never fails her, despite that which ails her.

At her drawing board,
what was lost is now restored.
New way. Bright as Day.

© Marie Elena Good, 2019

GOD BLESSED US, EVERY ONE

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Image credit:  Pixabay

 

Can we be thankful
for that which we aren’t aware
we’ve even received?

Yet God has blessed us,
every one of us, with
His very own Son,

leaving the glory
of heavenly realms aside,
born of a virgin

in humblest of means,
crying with the bleating sheep,
and braying donkeys.

No silent night, this,
yet holy, miraculous,
and liberating.

A virgin woman
bore this “for unto us” Child
in obedience

to the very God
Who chose her to give life to
the Giver of Life.

She named Him Jesus.
He who had no beginning –
Who was here before

the world’s foundation –
the Co-Creator of all –
became a newborn.

He grew in wisdom,
and did only that which His
Father told Him to.

His Father gave Him
all things, and left our judgement
in His holy hands.

We are guilty, all.
But the Father made a way:
His name is Jesus.

God gave His own Self
in the Person of the Son
to redeem the lost.

We are all the lost,
falling short of God’s glory.
But now He sees us

through the saving grace
of The One who redeemed us
on Calvary’s cross.

So I ask again:
Can we be thankful for that
which we aren’t aware

we’ve even received?
Jesus Christ died once, for all.
Many witnessed it.

And many witnessed
also His resurrection
from that very death –

the death that was ours.
He gifted us with His love,
and His saving grace.

Know Him, and know this:
God sanctified us. God blessed
us, every one.

© Marie Elena Good, 2019

ELOQUENT TEARS (No Words for My Savior)

Infinite grace, unhindered and free
Limitless mercy, darkness eclipsed
Undeserved pardon, lavished on me
Gratitude lies unexpressed on my lips

Silence of tongue, and hands I can’t raise
Words strung together fall short in their worth
Only my tears are fluent in praise
Here in my tears, my worship gives birth

Eloquent tears spill praise to The King
Dampening cheeks He crafted in love
Moistening lips that yearn to sing
Genuine worship to God above

© Marie Elena Good, 2014

MY LORD AND MY GOD

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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

THIS IS WHAT VALOR LOOKS LIKE

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What do I know of my mother falling
dead at my teenage feet.

What do I know of being
blown apart in body
and spirit
at the hands of an enemy I didn’t choose.

What do I know of channeling
raging pain
into charity for my fellow man.

What do I know of love
born of anguish.
This, benevolent and boundless.

What do I know of smiling
eyes, lips, heart
for every being in my path.

What do I know of heroism
but for you?

 

© Marie Elena Good, edited 2019

(original penned 2013)

TRI-ANGLES

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Photo by Deanna Marie Metts

I.

They say we shouldn’t talk politics or religion
so, religiously,
we blind our eyes,
plug our ears,
close our minds,
and open our mouths.

II.

They say we shouldn’t talk politics or religion
so, religiously,
we shun politics
while we de-bate what hooked us
and dragged us to our knees.

III.

They say we shouldn’t talk politics or religion
so, religiously,
we set our jaws, and type
with furious fingers –
too often the same fingers that have
never cast a ballot,
raised themselves to seek answers to questions,
nor folded themselves to silently seek the
One
we religiously shun.

 

© Marie Elena Good, 2019