pictured words

a simple pairing of pictures and poetry

Tag: GRACE

MY STRENGTH AND MY SONG

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“The Lord is my strength and my song; he has given me victory. This is my God, and I will praise him —  my father’s God, and I will exalt him!”  (Exodus 15:2)

My Strength and My Song

When weakness takes me to my knees,
My Father’s arms will lift me.
When terror causes me to freeze,
His truths set all my fears free.

My Father’s Son became my Lord
When I was just a child.
To Trinity’s melodious chord,
My soul was reconciled.

I feel His might.  I hear His voice –
Astounding grace extended
From One whose love compelled His choice:
From Heav’n above, descended.

He is my strength.  He is my song.
I hear His vict’ry ringing!
He’s held my heart my whole life long –
How can I keep from singing?

© Marie Elena Good, 2019

Cadence and final line are both from the Christian hymn “My Life Flows On,” often attributed to Robert Lowry (1826-1899)

SOW

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Sow
grace where you
may.

Pray
kindness brings good
yield.

Wield
God’s most holy
word.

Gird
softness ‘round your
views.

Fuse
truth to all you
know.

Show
love in all you
sow.

© Marie Elena Good, 2018

FOR POETIC BLOOMINGS AUTUMNAL POEM-A-DAY CHAPBOOK CHALLENGE, 2018,  DAY 10:  HARVEST

INTERMENT DAY

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All day, the sky shed tears, and I,
at times.
I prayed no more tears, graveside,
but they fell

and fell

on faulty umbrellas
and baying bagpipe
and wailing sax
and tone of Taps
and stars
and stripes
and dated stones
and downcast cheeks
and woeful thoughts
and hard-fought fear

while lavish love
flowed fierce and full,
affecting a fragrance
of
unreserved grace.

 

© Marie Elena Good, 2018

Patricia A. Fagnano
March 16, 1931 – February 9, 2018

James F. Fagnano
January 7, 1932 – March 15, 2018

Mom and Dad, laid to rest.
In the presence of God
and the hearts of all,
the hardest day of my life,
and a thing of beauty
at once.

September 8, 2018
On the anniversary of their wedding. 

No Longer Under the System of Law

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Amazing grace
complete, profound.
Enslaved in sin, set free.
How great the cost
that shook the ground.
Defining love for me.

 

© Marie Elena Good, 2017

(Inspired, of course, by John Newton’s “Amazing Grace”)

A WEEK IN HAIKU

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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

And What of Joy?

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This world may have some issues I can’t solve –
Some great enough to trigger pain or fear;
Some threatening to make my life revolve
‘round stresses, whether certain or unclear.

This fallen world may never right its wrongs,
May never be at peace, nor ever learn
The value of a love that seeks and longs
To emanate affection and concern.

Though incidents endeavor to destroy,
To pierce our heart’s contentment as a knife,
My Jesus, how I thank You that my joy
Does not depend on happiness in life!

Unending joy of sinner-been-set-free,
Your grace and mercy are enough for me.

© Marie Elena Good, 2015

MARY’S SONNET

See  Jean Keaton Inspired Art ... lovely cards available here:  http://www.jeankeatonart.com/store/greeting-cards/mary-and-baby-jesus-greeting-card/.

“Mary and Baby Jesus” used with permission of artist.  See Jean Keaton Inspired Art … lovely cards  and frame-able art available here: http://www.jeankeatonart.com/store/greeting-cards/mary-and-baby-jesus-greeting-card/.

“So be it done to me as you have said.”
Yet, as the words released from my own tongue,
I did not understand the path I’d tread,
Nor anguish God would ask of one so young.

The visit of that night became surreal,
As mundane daily chores consumed my life.
I questioned, did I dream the whole ordeal?
For I was just a mother and a wife.

Then, jolted from this lulled complacency,
I watched in horror as they took my son
To torture him, and nail him to a tree,
And wailed myself when he cried, “It is done.”

I gazed upon the empty cross, and tomb,
In awe – I’d cradled God within my womb.

© Marie Elena Good

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