Moon | pictured words

May 30, 2021

BENEATH THE MOON OF GOD’S CHOOSING

In the midst of war
(and there is always a war)
lies grim misjudging.
Fear of difference.
Insatiable greed for land.
Resolute loathing.
Dire false impressions.
Grave miscommunications.

And a common moon.

And beneath that moon,
in God’s perfect alignment,
is home to us all.
We’ve food and water
(if only we’d gladly share),
great plains and mountains,
celebrated seas
with unfathomably large
communal mammals.
With microscopic
yet astoundingly complex
sentient beings.
Sands God has numbered
stay in place as our home spins,
not spilling a drop
of the vast waters
that both adorn and provide,
beautify and quench.

And though we do not
tend to her needs (let alone
the needs of “others”),
God gave us this home
brilliantly placed beneath the
moon of His choosing,
populated with
children He chooses to love.
(There are no “others.”}

January 31, 2021

NOT FOR LACK OF MUSIC

She hosts a host of
concerts of many genres
in her core, daily,

hourly, or even
moment-by-moment. And in
those moments, she’s moved

but she doesn’t move.
Not really. Oh, perhaps she
sways. Shifts her shoulders

imperceptibly.
She’s intimate with rhythm.
She knows which music

begs an offbeat tap.
She was likely introduced
long before her birth.

Drum cadence stirs her.
Jazz makes her long to sing. Swing.
Waltz softens her eyes,

behind which she glides
across an icy-smooth floor.
She, frozen in place.

Perhaps she will dance
with moonbeams on the wall, while
the house is asleep.

© Marie Elena Good, 2021

The idea of dancing with moonbeams on the wall while the house is asleep is from “TOM’S BEACH, Scène Fourteen: A View Inside Out,” by brilliant poet Marilyn Braendeholm. More of her work may be found here: The Journal – Random. Thoughts. Notes. (wordpress.com) .

4 Comments