pictured words

a simple pairing of pictures and poetry

Tag: Lost



Photo by Keith R. Good

Sleep came,
but the dreams that accompanied it
were disturbing
and all I could do was pray for peace
as worry for her threatened to devour me.
Disquiet was my life for months

and months

and months.

Then one night I found myself
walking a path of undisturbed snow.
The moon was my only light –
just enough to illumine the path,
glisten against the falling snowflakes,
and reveal the immense evergreen forest.
There was silence,
save the calming crunch
of snow beneath my feet.
I walked the breathtaking beauty all night,
accompanied by One who knows me intimately –

the only One who offers stillness
in the midst of turbulence.

© Marie Elena Good, 2019

“… and he said to the sea, ‘Peace, be still.’ And the wind ceased, and there was a great calm.”  ~ Mark 4:39




“After the Rain” (Made with Love by Leeroy. Life-of-Pix free stock}


She writes her life in third person
Once removed.
In ink or lead or crayon.
Or spoon.
It’s strewn about while she

Remains unmoved.

Someone loved her once, she knows.
No. She knows.
She wrings her wrists
And twists her ring.
Can’t tell you what she ate
Or when.

Or who would ask such a thing.

She also knows this:
Each day is a season
Fused with strife,
Escaping her grasp,
Leaving her gasping

For life.


© Marie Elena Good, 2017




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