It’s time to unveil
a new year. Inhale fresh air,
and care for what’s there.
Let my voice take wing
to sing in the key of peace.
May mercy increase
where now there are chains.
Where cold-heartedness remains,
may warmth fill my veins.
Let love with no caps
gush compassion, not rationed
in morsels or scraps.
Make me teachable
and easily reachable
when You wish to speak.
Please help me seek You.
In new ways through this new year,
help me feel You near.
© Marie Elena Good, 2021
Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com
In my imagination,
I see the eyes of a nation
opening
focusing
noticing
seeing each human being,
and agreeing their wellbeing
gives meaning to our own
as we bemoan our past
and hold steadfast
to our bloodstream’s dreams
of fairness for all
that made landfall
in 2020 –
not for the goal of the many,
but the whole of humanity.
© Marie Elena Good, 2020
Back to our cabin,
where I found my heart waiting
on the front porch swing.
(c) Marie Elena Good, 2019
#57519
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
There’s a man who is sure
That he glitters like gold
And he’s building a wall for safekeeping.
In the office he sought
When he got there he thought
With a word, he could get what he came for.
Oh oh oh oh, and will he build the wall he had promised?
When he speaks, is there truth?
See, I want to be sure,
‘cause I sense that his words have no meanings.
And these memes that we share,
They don’t mean that we care.
Sometimes ALL of our thoughts are misgiving.
Oooh, it makes me wonder.
Oooh, it makes me wonder.
There’s a feeling I get
That’s too much like a threat
That’s expressed as “kind” words are escaping.
Through his acts have I seen
Rings of smoke through the mirrors,
And pained faces of those who are seeking.
Oooh, it makes me wonder.
Ooh, it really makes me wonder.
And it’s whispered that soon there will come a new moon,
And the piper will be charged with treason.
Then a new day will dawn
Talk of walls will be gone,
But will we have the peace we’ve sought after?
Could be a hustler in our Whitehouse,
But how do I know?
It’s just an inkling from what I’ve seen.
Yes, I have seen our politics spun
And in the long run
It’s all talk to spin the road we’re on,
And it makes me wonder.
My head is aching, and I can’t stand
This hate in my land.
The piper’s calling us to join him.
Dear Lady, do I hear you weeping,
And do I see
Indignant tears on the whispering wind?
And as we contemplate our walls,
Do we not stand to lose our soul?
Is our safekeeping worth it all?
Oh Lady shine through harbor’s fog!
Let dialogue be kind and true.
And let us listen very hard,
And tune our heart-song from our past,
When liberty was welcoming
When we were hailed as brave and free,
And we hadn’t closed our stairway to heaven.
© Marie Elena Good, 2019
Please note: Some phrases from the original Stairway to Heaven by Led Zeppelin were intentionally used in this poem.
Photo by Keith R. Good
When poets sigh, they sigh for love –
In awe of fragrant fruit thereof.
To spill the heart from breast to page
Release it from its living cage –
Free fragrant ache to fill the soul, and reach the sky,
And my-oh-my, breathe in love’s scent, when poets sigh.
And how I dream our words would fill
Our world with peace. With love. Goodwill.
And I believe that words can heal
And so I’ll write, and speak. Appeal
To peacemakers whose soothing words are as a stream
In moonlit gleam. It’s how I pray, and how I dream.
When poets write, they seek within
To find the space where dreams begin
Where love writes sighs, and peace prevails
Where words can heal, and goodwill sails
To span the breadth of all that’s true, and there alight.
We’ll dream the love, and love the dream, when poets write.
© Marie Elena Good, 2018
Lucky, lucky me.
Log cabin nestled in pines.
My name on his lips.
© Marie Elena Good
#hockinghills
#frontierlogcabins
#october2018
Her toes, tanned,
saunter in sand
as sun wanes.
She remains,
steeped in still
-nes’tled blush of dusk.
Settled. Hushed.
Moon taunts her,
fetching her heart –
sketching shore shadows –
stretching fern and frond
beyond her vision.
And far beyond
her once-upon-a-sand
box.
© Marie Elena Good, 2018
Photo from Pexels.com
We thirst for even a sprinkling of peace,
as we reach the boiling point.
#seventeensyllablesfortwentyseventeen
https://thetwiglets.wordpress.com/2017/12/12/twiglet-54/
Photo by Keith R. Good
This Land of the Free can’t agree on taking a knee. But it’s not about the knee. It’s about equality, and that’s the key to being free, from sea to shining sea.
See?
© Marie Elena Good 2017
#takeaknee
pictured words 