pictured words

a simple pairing of pictures and poetry

Tag: God is in control

ON 2020

Photo credit: Keith R. Good

This year destroyed us.
I’ll never be convinced that
We can survive this.

There’s no going back.
I know it. So don’t tell me
Better times will come.

God no longer cares.
Hear me. Do not believe that
God is in control.

© Marie Elena Good, 2020

This poem is 3 stanzas.  Each stanza has 17-syllables (5/7/5).  This is my first ever attempt at a Reverse format poem. (Read the poem from the top line, down … and then read it from the bottom line, up.)

PLACED IN A TIME SUCH AS THIS

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Ohio Department of Health Director, Dr. Amy Acton (thankful for her)

I don’t believe in fluke of fate.
No, we were slated for this time.
But as we climb this curve
we work to flatten as ordered
to slacken this attack,
I am looking forward
to looking back.

© Marie Elena Good, 2020

St. Thomas Island’s Caret Bay (“Someday” Comes – a Roundelay)

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Exploring life on new frontiers,
Today my luvs move far away.
Our seasons come in waves and tiers
As drizzle falls from sky of gray
I hug them tight, yet curb my tears.
I have to hold my heart at Bay.

Our seasons come in waves and tiers.
As drizzle falls from sky of gray.
Attentive to the fleeting years,
I want for them sun’s ray. Son’s ray.
I hug them tight, yet curb my tears.
I have to hold my heart at Bay.

Acquainted with life’s fleeting years,
I want for them sun’s ray. Son’s ray.
May God’s vast grasp be crystal clear,
And richly sensed on Caret Bay.
I hug them tight, yet curb my tears.
I have to hold my heart at Bay.

May God’s vast grasp be crystal clear,
And richly sensed on Caret Bay.
Goodbyes are said, and it appears
The time is now, and not “someday.”
I hug them tight, yet curb my tears.
I have to hold my heart at Bay.

© Marie Elena Good, 2018

 

LOST, BUT NOT AIMLESS

 

LOST BUT NOT AIMLESS PHOTO JACKIE MEIER

Painting by Jackie Meier

I believe in small government. I love my Uncle Sam, but don’t trust him to use our taxes effectively, efficiently, or fairly to benefit the needy among us. I believe in the heart of the American people to nurture the disadvantaged, and I don’t begrudge those who have much.

I believe in lifting our lamp beside the golden door. I believe that lady in the harbor meant what she said, and knew that big hearts win in the end.

I’ve always looked right for my compass, but I’ve become disoriented.

I don’t recognize the mercenary face extending a deceitful hand to haul me down a freeway that is not free, and is not the way.

And yet …

Don’t talk to me about turning left at the intersection. For there I see a self-aggrandizing dragon that breathes intolerance even as it feigns open arms.

Don’t talk to me about moderate. A little of this and a pinch of that have no home – no place to rest their head or raise their voice.

Lost, but not aimless … and not alone.

“In the LORD’s hand the king’s heart is a stream of water that he channels toward all who please him.” ~ Proverbs 21:1

© Marie Elena Good, 2016