pictured words

a simple pairing of pictures and poetry

Tag: Language

UNSPOKEN

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PHOTO BY KEITH R. GOOD

She fights to connect.
Even her thoughts are wordless,
she says.  And I nod

as if I can grasp
telepathically , and
put music to it –

noting nuances
in tune with fluent fretting –
non-verbal vetting

of elusive words
she only needs for we who
don’t speak her spirit.

 

© Marie Elena Good

ANDREA

 

12381964

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

 

LOVE SPEAKS

 

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Photo by Keith R. Good

When love speaks,
It speaks softly.
 
When love listens,
It listens intently.
 
But when love sings,
It ascends to the heavens,
 
And enchants its very Creator.
(C) Marie Elena Good, 2010
Originally posted at “Across the Lake, Eerily”

LANGUAGE AFAR

1186768_689906361030766_1280240593_nShe used to speak with longing
Of faraway lands,
Of engaging the charmingly unique folks,
Of getting a first-hand sense of their lives abroad.
“But I don’t speak the language”
Always kept her stateside.

She used to speak effortlessly
Of shores she knew only through books.
Slowly, nearly imperceptibly at first,
She noticed words were not
Readily available.
“What’s the word I’m looking for? Oh, yes …”

She began speaking less,
As words needed time to percolate to the surface,
And that took time folks didn’t seem to have.

She eventually quit speaking.
She didn’t know the language.