pictured words

a simple pairing of pictures and poetry

Tag: Love

April 6, 2017

HEARING IS NOT THE SAME AS LISTENING

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Photo by Keith R. Good

“Hearing is Not the Same as Listening” ~ Sarah Elizabeth (my young, wise, single-mom cousin)

Grunts, yelps, shrieks,
laughs, and cries
are Kenzie’s only tools of communication.
But this morning was different.
This morning, as Sarah readied the children for school,
the pattern of Kenzies “noise” sounded suddenly familiar.
All preparations halted, as Sarah began to sing
lines from a Veggie Tales movie.

Kenzie made eye contact.

EYE CONTACT.

Then Sarah and Kenzie began alternating lines.

No one has heard Kenzie utter a word in years.
Yet all this time she has been singing, unnoticed.

And now Sarah will sing with Kenzie
a hundred times in an hour
if that’s what she wants.

In the cacophony of life,
listen
and hear
cadence,
harmony,
and even dissonance.
For sometimes a solo
hungers for harmony.

© Marie Elena Good, 2017

8 Comments
April 6, 2017

Last Sunday

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Photo by Deanna Marie Metts

The sermon was on forgiveness.  My mind was as blank as the 3 x 5 card, on which we were encouraged to write the name of someone we need to forgive.  Surely there is someone in my life in need of my forgiveness.  I can think of no one.  Not one.  I contemplated and prayed in intervals, while listening to the sermon.

“Marie, I don’t need your forgiveness.”

Though inaudible, the sudden voice was clear, adamant, and authoritative … and just as full of love and understanding as anything I could imagine.  At first, I argued.

“Of COURSE there is nothing to forgive! You are my GOD!”

How tender a God
who loves me as I hold Him
accountable.

 

© Marie Elena Good, 2017

2 Comments
March 15, 2017

A ROSE BY ANY OTHER NAME …

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Irish roses bud and bloom
 Side-by-side in mother’s womb.
Beautifully, they grew in grace;
Elegant as Irish lace.

Happy Birthday to Mom and Aunt Peg, with love and great respect.

4 Comments
January 15, 2017

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”
3 Comments
January 7, 2017

OF WAR AND WORTH

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New York Times, Jan. 2, 2017
Political post by Sheri Fink and Helene Cooper

“Give me a pack of cigarettes and a couple of beers, and I do better with that than I do with torture.” ~ James N. Mattis, Retired General, and President-elect Donald J. Trump’s nominee for Secretary of Defense

 

A young boy’s torture,
Received
Then imparted,
Swells the hell inside –
Wills famine of worth
Gives birth to young man
Young soldier
Acquainted with torture
And callous of heart.

A young boy’s nurture,
Received
Then imparted,
Renders a tender
Defender of life
Where strife matters not.
Young soldier, familiar
With self-control
And depth of soul.

Young country at war
Divides her own shore.

© Marie Elena Good, 2017

5 Comments
January 7, 2017

SONNET FOR MY DAD

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My father earned a living teaching youth.
He shared with them the music of his core.
He showed them how to honor life and truth,
And gave his time to all who graced his door.

My father is a man to emulate –
A man who holds to ethical ideals.
And even now, though years have slowed his gait,
They haven’t marred the crux of what he feels.

My father’s love is deep; allegiance strong.
His charity continues to abound.
He taught me well to judge what’s right and wrong,
To gather stars, while keeping feet aground.

And so it is I pen this gift through tears –
I thank my God for granting us these years.

© Marie Elena Good, 2012

6 Comments
December 24, 2016

HOW SILENT?

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Photo: Marie Elena Good

As cattle low and donkeys bray,
A worried man begins to pray.
“She’s weary, Lord, and birth pains loom,
We need an Inn, but none have room.”
A stable with a bed of hay
Affords them with a place to stay.
 
She lies amongst the bleating sheep –
Where there she finds no peace for sleep.
The hour of our Savior’s birth
Sweet angel voices sing His worth,
While Satan howls – himself, enraged
In knowing that a war’s been waged
A war the Babe Himself will win –
To free us from our senseless sin.
 
Beneath the sacred star-lit night,
How silent was that holy night?
 
 
(C) Marie Elena Good, 2010
 
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November 22, 2016

Mother of Exiles

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Photo credit:  “Bill” of lovethispic.com

Silent lips call not the privileged,
But the pillaged –
Lifted lamp in hand, pursuing
Pomp’s undoing.
Mother of Exiles’ mild eyes
Don’t canonize ennoblement,
Nor demonize the waifs’ lament.
Her lamp is lit,
Her mission, writ –
“Send these,” her timeless, ceaseless plea.
Dear homeless, come. Be loved. Breathe free.

 

© Marie Elena Good, 2016

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July 25, 2016

MOTHER’S DAY

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Photo by Deanna Marie Metts

All I wanted was to give you a gift –
A pretty something you could wear
On your wrist,
Or around your neck.
Something having nothing to do
With construction paper,
scissors,
or crayons.
Something purchased with paper money
From a department store.
Something wrapped in ribbon.

Now all I want is to give you a gift –
Something having nothing to do
With purchases
With paper money.
I want to give you

Sunny smiles,
Smooth sailing,
Sweet solace.

6 Comments