Love | pictured words

A WORLD OF NO FORGIVENESS

Illustration: Quentin Blake/Puffin

“Look at what you has done. And there be no forgiveness.” (From Roald Dahl’s “The BFG”)

A WORLD OF NO FORGIVENESS

This story begins
not with, “Once upon a time,”
but with, “At no time.”

At no time has there
ever existed a world
of no forgiveness.

We could not go on
without mercy and pardon
for one another,

from one another,
and, yes, also for ourselves.
For our Creator

has built forgiveness
into the very fabric
of our humanness.

How deeply ingrained
is our need for forgiveness?
How deeply ingrained?

How deeply healing
when I myself forgive me?
And again I ask

How deeply healing?
Our God made a way for us
to be forgiven.

Made in His image,
the road is already paved
to forgive others.

Made in His image,
the road is already paved
to forgive ourselves.

So let’s live our lives
in the state of forgiveness
that’s been granted us.

“Look what you has done
and there be no forgiveness,”
and upside-down lakes,

and trogglehumpers,
and dreams that float like fireflies
are just a story.

1 Comment

HOCKING HILLS AUTUMN 2019 DAY 5 (2)

Photos by Marie Elena Good

Lovers and children
make paper hearts. God uses
all of creation.

#57519
#hockinghills

4 Comments

Some days seem the longest long longer than a run-on sentence that fills her space with no breaks to grab a breath or bite or blink of rest and yes she’s blessed but stressed and pressed where tiny pupils move left to right left to right no end in sight no time to quench her appetite for slumber in what’s left of night just left to right left to right left to write what’s left to write …

(I do believe too many young moms in our midst feel just like this. 😦 )

1 Comment

October 6, 2019

A HOLY HUSH

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.

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

4 Comments

September 30, 2019

COMFORT FOODS

Easter Ham Pie. Mom

It’s Mom’s recipes –
stained, and written in her hand –
that nourish my heart.

2 Comments

August 25, 2019

I Hear You

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Photo by Keith R. Good

The song of love
when your eyes go soft.
Questions that beg response
in the furrow of your brow.
Curses
in the setting of your jaw.
Sincere contrition
in your entire countenance.
Lines from Moonstruck
in the sudden glint of your eye
and grin of your lips.
“You look good,”
in the slight lift of one brow.
More clearly than your voice,
I hear your face.

6 Comments

August 23, 2019

FOUND POEM

post-it-3765271_640

The yellow stickies
with black ink I love yous, are
poetry enough.

5 Comments

July 29, 2019

MOM (a tribute)

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I.
You told me of the love in my eyes for you
when you first held me in your arms
the day I was born.
Is it any wonder.
I knew you, and had already experienced
the gentle warmth that was you.

II.
All my friends thought me the luckiest girl
to be able to call you mom,
even though you didn’t tolerate misbehavior
or disrespect. They saw the love right through
the discipline. I tried to emulate you,
but it seems that isn’t the same as
it being a part of who you are.

III.
I saw how the mention of you
brought warm smiles.
Your gentle demeanor,
laughter, and love
were contagious.

IV.
I understand being an introvert,
and I ponder with amazement
how you dealt with that part of you.
You could have written a “how to,”
I believe. I understand more and more
the sacrifices you made.
The way you encouraged others,
and always had a kind word to offer.
The way you treated everyone
with the same level of respect.
Fiercely loyal to those you were closest to,
in ways that had to have been draining.
But we didn’t see that you were drained.
You would simply go “rest [your] back
for a few minutes,” or “rest [your] eyes.”

V.
You were my moral compass,
and still are. I feel your nudges.
I hear your gentle voice. I pray
I inherited more of you
than I see in myself.
From womb to death,
and now beyond,
I thank God for the blessing
of you.

6 Comments

July 28, 2019

All About the Love

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Dad was a teacher, a band director, and a professional musician. In all of these professions, he was my father. I was always learning in his presence. He gave everything one hundred percent. I hear, in his voice: “Nothing great was ever accomplished without enthusiasm.” “Take it with you. If you need it, you’ll have it.” “Do your best.” “Practice right.” “Never look back. Just move forward.” “No regrets.” “Love is the most important thing.”

All of it, important. All of it, useful. All of it, wise.

There were times I was privileged to witness him at his core. Times that planted pride and love in my heart that I can hardly express. One of the things that made my knees weak came very late in life. I was sitting with a now extremely fragile man who was watching the love of his life slip slowly away, due to Alzheimer’s. “I’m not sure how to handle the coming day when I go to her room to kiss her goodnight, and she doesn’t know who I am.” My heart. The conversation was one of the hardest of my life. But also one that showed me he was still, in his elderly and fragile state, my father. As we talked about dark days ahead that could begin any moment, he gave me advice that encompassed all he was: “No matter what happens, remember her love.”

Love enthusiastically.
Love takes practice. Practice daily.
Take love with you. If you need it, you’ll have it.
(You’ll need it.)

Thank you, Dad. Thank you.

2 Comments

July 25, 2019

WHERE LIES MY INTEREST?

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Photo by Keith R. Good

When I was a child,
I loved to pretend.
The “what” mattered little,
As it was all in the imagining.

As a young adult,
I loved to garden,
Bicycle, and hike.
The “where” mattered little,
As it was all in the doing.

As a now-older adult,
My passions are to
Pray, write, and ponder.
The “why” matters much,
As it is all in the love.

2 Comments

pictured words

Tag: Love

November 15, 2019

A WORLD OF NO FORGIVENESS

October 24, 2019

HOCKING HILLS AUTUMN 2019 DAY 5 (2)

October 20, 2019

YOUNG MOM

October 6, 2019

A HOLY HUSH

September 30, 2019

COMFORT FOODS

August 25, 2019

I Hear You

August 23, 2019

FOUND POEM

July 29, 2019

MOM (a tribute)

July 28, 2019

All About the Love

July 25, 2019

WHERE LIES MY INTEREST?