pictured words

a simple pairing of pictures and poetry

Tag: Love of Christ

WOMAN, WHY DO YOU WEEP?


How do I respond
to such an oblivious
question of this man?

Why, sir, do I weep??
I have been weeping nonstop
for the last two days.

What I lived Friday
I can never un-live, nor
ever put to rights.

And then, yesterday,
the loss began to sink in.
I could not face it.

Now, today, even
His buried body is gone,
and my life, with it.

You ask why I weep?
What kind of question is that?
How can I not weep?

But I don’t say that.
All I can muster is, “Where,
sir, have you laid Him?”

Compassionately,
almost playfully, this Man
says only my name.

I nearly collapse.
Only one Man has kept my
name safe on His lips.

The tears continue,
but they are no longer the
tears of yesterday.

© Marie Elena Good, 2021

“Woman, why are you weeping? Whom are you seeking?” Supposing Him to be the gardener, she said to Him, “Sir, if you have carried Him away, tell me where you have laid Him, and I will take Him away.”  ~ John 20:15

Untitled 17-syllable “waiting” poem

Image by Robert Allmann from Pixabay

“Father, forgive them. They know not what they do.” ~ Jesus Christ of Nazareth (Luke 23:34)

Tortured at their hands,
my Messiah didn’t wait
for apologies.

© Marie Elena Good, 2021


In response to Robert Lee Brewer’s 2021 April PAD Challenge: Day 17 – Writer’s Digest (Day 17: Write a Waiting poem.)

“RACE CARD”

Photo by fotografierende on Pexels.com

We need new mantras –
new voices of conviction.
We are not playing.

© Marie Elena Good, 2021

In response to Robert Lee Brewer’s 2021 April PAD Challenge: Day 12 – Writer’s Digest  (Day 12: 6-word poem [were given 6 words from which to choose at least 3 to include in the poem])

HE IS RISEN!

Image by Gerd Altmann from Pixabay

Pondering the blood-drenched tree
There but for His mercy, me
Tear-stained face, I bow the knee
Hallelujah! He is risen!

Low, for me His blood was drained
Love entombed, yet not contained
Absolution, as ordained
Hallelujah! He is risen!

(c) Marie Elena Good, 2013

Untitled communication poem, II

Image by TC Perch from Pixabay

uncompromised love
articulated by a
silent, empty tomb

© Marie Elena Good, 2021

In response to Robert Lee Brewer’s 2021 April Poem-a-Day Challenge at Poetic Asides (Day 3: Write a Communication poem).

NO STRANGER, THIS

Image by Jan Steiner from Pixabay

He asked for water.
We’d never seen each other,
and we were alone:

He (a Jewish man)
and Samaritan-woman-
me, knowing my place.

Finding it a bit
amusing, I asked Him why
He asked this of me. 

He spoke in riddle,
“If you knew who was asking,
you’d have asked of Him,

and He’d have given
the gift of living water.”
Then He spoke again

and everything
there is to know about me,
He already knew.

I wasn’t disturbed.
There was nothing unsettling
in His countenance.

There was not a doubt
the gift He offered me was
His for the giving.

I drew His water.
But He? He quenched a thirst I
never knew I had.

© Marie Elena Good, 2021

In response to Robert Lee Brewer’s 2021 April Poem-a-Day Challenge at Poetic Asides (Day 1: Write an introduction poem).

UNTITLED 5/7/5

Then, after four years,
the child they’d nurtured as theirs
returned to birth mom.


© Marie Elena Good, 2020


It was actually shy of four years, but no matter.

Some people think I am a kind and caring woman. The fact is that I have not chosen the hard roads … the selfless roads … that some I greatly admire, have. It takes someone very special to foster children. It takes someone willing to brace themselves to get their heart ripped out of their chest. Even the possibility of that happening right before Christmas. I’m thankful for those willing to do that. God forgive me, I have never been one of them.

Sam and Ian, just … just, so much admiration. You bring me to tears.

CHRISTMAS CARD

Photo credit: Keith R. Good

‘Twas the morning of Christmas,
And Santa was spent,
Having just returned home
From his yearly event.

After taking his shower
And downing his Joe,
He awoke Mrs. Claus
With a sweet kiss hello.

On their loveseat they sat
With the best Book on earth
To read St. Luke’s account
Of the Christ Child’s birth.

“By miraculous means
A young woman conceived,
And the baby she bore
Would save all the deceived,”

“Which includes you and me,”
Santa said, his voice low;
His eyes brimming with tears
From his heart’s overflow.

“And the best gift of all
Doesn’t come from my sleigh.
No, the best gift of all?
Sacred love, in scant hay.”

© Marie Elena Good, 2020







FLOURISHING

Photo by Keith R. Good

Sow seeds of love –
for their blooms
are beautiful,
and guaranteed
to reseed.


© Marie Elena Good, 2010

 

GOD BLESSED US, EVERY ONE

catholic-1294124_1280

Image credit:  Pixabay

 

Can we be thankful
for that which we aren’t aware
we’ve even received?

Yet God has blessed us,
every one of us, with
His very own Son,

leaving the glory
of heavenly realms aside,
born of a virgin

in humblest of means,
crying with the bleating sheep,
and braying donkeys.

No silent night, this,
yet holy, miraculous,
and liberating.

A virgin woman
bore this “for unto us” Child
in obedience

to the very God
Who chose her to give life to
the Giver of Life.

She named Him Jesus.
He who had no beginning –
Who was here before

the world’s foundation –
the Co-Creator of all –
became a newborn.

He grew in wisdom,
and did only that which His
Father told Him to.

His Father gave Him
all things, and left our judgement
in His holy hands.

We are guilty, all.
But the Father made a way:
His name is Jesus.

God gave His own Self
in the Person of the Son
to redeem the lost.

We are all the lost,
falling short of God’s glory.
But now He sees us

through the saving grace
of The One who redeemed us
on Calvary’s cross.

So I ask again:
Can we be thankful for that
which we aren’t aware

we’ve even received?
Jesus Christ died once, for all.
Many witnessed it.

And many witnessed
also His resurrection
from that very death –

the death that was ours.
He gifted us with His love,
and His saving grace.

Know Him, and know this:
God sanctified us. God blessed
us, every one.

© Marie Elena Good, 2019