Untitled
He who directs my steps,
smooths my path.
He moistens my parched lips
with song.
© Marie Elena Good, 2017
pictured words
a simple pairing of pictures and poetry
Tag: Faith
November 10, 2017
September 25, 2017
THIS I KEEP ON DOING (a sinner’s sonnet)
Photo by Deanna Marie Metts
“For I do not do the good I want to do, but the evil I do not want to do –
this I keep on doing.” ~ Romans 7:19
Like Paul, I do what I don’t want to do.
The best in me is shallow as a shoal,
That barely covers that which is askew.
An ugliness lies deep within my soul.
Too quick am I to judge and criticize.
This goes against my core belief; my creed.
I want to see my fellow man with eyes
That focus on their value and their need.
I give to Christ my own besetting sin
And ask Him to unseat its hiding place.
I beg of Him to change me from within –
Remove what doesn’t bolster love and grace.
For He alone can break through this façade
To commandeer the part that’s deeply flawed.
© Marie Elena Good, 2017
May 1, 2017
Israelite’ish
Photo by Deanna Marie Metts
Tell me again
how You parted
the waters
that threatened my soul
to sink.
Remind me
the healings
when reeling
from lie’s ink;
death’s brink.
Retell the hell
from which
you snatched my feet.
Unseat untruth
I tell my past.
I ask, let’s talk
of solid rock
that drenched the earth
and quenched
my thirst.
Recall for me
the blood-soaked tree –
the guarantee
you set me free
from me.
© Marie Elena Good, 2017
April 13, 2017
ANDREA
A people-person and poet,
she learned to write
in a language not her own.
Alone, and on a small Danish island,
she yearned to connect.
To greet poetic kin.
In time, she braved the barriers
of language and space,
embraced globe and all therein.
Within her lay a yearning.
A burning desire to know You.
To believe in Your existence.
But the distance seemed too far,
and far-flung stars, more personal
than the God who hung them.
How often did she ask to unmask
the key to faith in a God who hears.
Loves. Draws. Speaks.
Yet I believe. I believe You
who knew her heart from the start
ran to greet her.
“Mit barn! My child!”
I believe she recognized You at once,
whispered tenderly, “Min far. My Father.”
Never again will language be labored,
and never again faith
a far-flung star.
© Marie Elena Good, 2017
Sadly, our Poetic Asides family lost our Danish friend, Andrea Heiberg. She died of cancer Monday. Andrea never let language get in the way of relationship, clear across the globe. Her presence will be missed by so very many.
Next Stop: Sejer Island.
By Andrea Heiberg
http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/12381964-next-stop
April 6, 2017
Last Sunday
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
March 4, 2017
Reluctant Warrior (Sonnet for my brave, sweet friend)
Photo by Keith R. Good
The daddy that abused demands respect,
While brazenly he’s courting the profane.
She waits for alcohol to take effect,
Or swallows pills to numb the memory’s pain.
She daily chokes down bitter, misplaced guilt
That he’s imposed since she was just a child.
Wet pillow, stained where nightly shame is spilt,
Her very tears believe they are defiled.
But now she shuns her means for quick relief;
She’s trading pills and alcohol for truth.
And though her battle’s cruel beyond belief,
She’s vanquishing the crutches of her youth.
Her steadfast vision lifts and touches me.
Her only goal? “To God, the glory be.”
© Marie Elena Good, 2017
July 9, 2016
HAIKU (UNTITLED)
We’ve lost our first Love.
Even clouds of witnesses
Weep over our land.
June 5, 2016
A WEEK IN HAIKU
Photo by Keith R. Good
“… for His compassions never fail. They are new every morning.” ~ Lamentations 3
Dawn’s light emerges,
Hastening a new week’s cares.
Her knees, eroding.
Vivid moss roses
Flamboyant ruby hummers
Adore(n) her prayer walk
A murky morning.
Gloom seems to silence nature.
A still, small Voice calls.
The sun failed to rise,
She believes. And so she seeks
Son’s radiant grace.
Unsettling dream
Halted by sound of music
Caroled in her heart
Her heart feels absent;
Her spirit, arid and parched.
A gentle rain falls.
As dusk’s light withdraws,
She reaches out for His hand,
And there, finds her heart.
© Marie Elena Good
May 28, 2016
“Mary” (Entry from the journal of Mary of Magdala)
This morning
This mourning broke me.
Reality pierced my soul,
Left a gaping hole, with fears
No tears can fill.
This morning
His eyes haunted me,
As I already strained to recall
The implausible love I saw in them
Before the cross.
This morning
I longed to once again see myself –
Me as he saw me –
The me he presented to others –
Instead of the wretch I see in me.
This morning,
In darkness of mood and day,
I made my way to his tomb.
My heart and breath halted
As my eyes assaulted my senses.
This morning
He was gone.
I was even robbed of his lifeless body?
The cruelty of this was agonizing
And my wounds grew deeper still.
This morning
I wept harder and longer and deeper
Than I ever have before –
Not even at the cross, for I was too traumatized
For tears.
This morning
I saw men? Angels? Someone – something – angels
At the head and foot where he had lain.
They asked me why I was weeping.
How could I explain such pain?
This morning
I turned and saw a man – the gardener?
He asked me the same question the angels had.
“Woman, why are you weeping?”
Once my closed throat allowed me to speak,
I begged of him, “PLEASE sir, where have you put him?”
“Mary.”
Rabboni!
This morning
Mourning broke.
Light rose from darkness,
Spoke my name,
And I will never be the same.
©Marie Elena Good
Gospel of John, Chapter 20
Photo credit: Shutterstock.com
May 10, 2016
YAWEH ELOHIM
Photo by Keith R. Good
This is the first time I have posted words gleaned from someone else. I created this little site to be a place to pair my own poetry with images from others … but these words from my pastor so richly and deeply touched me, I wanted to share them here. As is often the case, one of my husband Keith’s photos serves as a perfect backdrop.
If you do not know this Yahweh Elohim Pastor Kain speaks of, I would be honored to introduce Him to you. Feel free to leave a comment below, with a way to get in touch with you.
Marie
pictured words 