pictured words

a simple pairing of pictures and poetry

Tag: THANKFULNESS

MOM (a tribute)

27657619_10155628101688600_6004715281279615069_n

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.

© Marie Elena Good, 2019

UNTITLED HAIBUN

love-2055960_1280

Incredible image courtesy of  Lars_Nissen_Photoart, on Pixabay

He asks what my hardest moments have been, pressing me to purposely reflect on a life that has been primarily appreciation-inducing.  I had parents who loved me well and modeled life; relatives who enveloped and affirmed me; friends who have laughed with me, and accepted my limitations; a sister with whom I can celebrate differences and honor common blood; children and grandchildren of limitless love; a husband who gives selflessly and fills my gaps; a Savior who has walked beside me since my earliest days.  These thoughts of great blessing bring easy breath and grateful tear.  Not that I have not experienced occasional pain.  Loss of loved ones.  Moves I did not want to make.  Divorce.  I have not been exempt from affliction.  But searing misery has come from a single source:  The suffering of those I love.

There is no torment
more incapacitating
than wanton worry.

© Marie Elena Good, 2019

THE VALUE OF FAMILY AND THIRTY FIVE DAYS

27971647_10213557723929471_9047434860855016083_n

One year ago, today,
we unexpectedly secured
a one-bedroom apartment for Dad,
and moved him into it.
It was just down the hall from Mom and Dad’s place,
where Mom had passed in the wee hours prior.

A back-and-forth blur
of family
furniture
clothes
drums
wood carvings and wood-carving tools
kitchen supplies
medications
wheelchairs
walkers
jazz,
and love,

until one space was empty,
and the other, full
of sunlight and life
that dared each other
shine.

Food followed.
A feast, really,
provided by cousins.
All of us squeezed
‘round a long table
with Dad at one end,
and Mom’s brother and her identical twin
at the other,
between which
more conversation and laughter managed to flow
than tears.

Who could have known
a mere thirty five days later,
the one-bedroom’s sunlight would be called to shine
alone.

© Marie Elena Good, 2019

MAJORLY SIMPLE

578796_381410825213656_496143252_n

Photo by Keith R. Good

I discovered the simple life I lead
does not lend itself to major discoveries. 

Or so I thought.

Then I discovered something major
in leading a simple life: 

Contentment.

Not as in settling.  As in
being settled.
No big dreams, met or unmet.

Then I discovered contentment
does not breed motivation.

Or so I thought.

But lo and behold,
contentment inspires thankfulness.
Then thankfulness – praise,
and praise – a relationship with my God,
and relationship with my God – contentment,
and contentment – thankfulness …

And I am content
with this

simple,

major,

inspiring discovery. 

 

© Marie Elena Good, 2019

THANKSGIVING FOR CHRISTMAS

santa-woman-2999721_640

As he flies through the sky at the blink of an eye (with that jolly guy wink), I can’t help but think – while our hearts are aglow, our thanks ranks too low.  So I’ve wrapped up my best – blessed, and addressed to “That Jolly Olde Soul at The North Pole,” including some kisses for Kris AND his missus (it’s apropos)  – sans mistletoe. 😉

© Marie Elena Good, 2018

HOLIDAY BLESSINGS ON PARADE

10393698_10152712483613600_6647513655179704406_n

Oh the feasts that we would eat  –
Grandma’s stuffing can’t be beat!
Turkey carved and on display,
Guesses on “what does it weigh?”

Yams and hams and pumpkin pies,
And (to figures’ great demise}
Aunt Peg’s “Goop,” and Mom’s cheesecake.
Hopeful leftovers to take!

TV playing  football games,
Watched by mostly men named James.
Conversations, hugs, and laughs.
Later-treasured photographs.

 © Marie Elena Good, 2018

P.S.  Once-upon-a-time, there were so many men/boys named James in our family, it became a running joke. Grandpa, 2 uncles, Dad, and two cousins (one nicknamed Punk)!  😀 

rocking chair

Lucky, lucky me.
Log cabin nestled in pines.
My name on his lips.

© Marie Elena Good

#hockinghills
#frontierlogcabins
#october2018

CORNUCOPIA

day 5 photo

Horn spills with blessings –
Some not so easily grasped,
but ours nonetheless.

© Marie Elena Good, 2018

FOR POETIC BLOOMINGS AUTUMNAL POEM-A-DAY CHAPBOOK CHALLENGE, 2018,  DAY 5: CORNUCOPIA

As I Near My Autumn Days

bench-560435_1280

As I near my autumn days,
I think of all I have not experienced.

No trips abroad.
No vacation home.
No award-winning book.
No fame.
No second-glance beauty.

I think of all I have not experienced.
Yet, let the autumn leaves summon,

For I am content to sit side-by-side,
In dappled sunlight or soaking rain.

(c) Marie Elena Good, 2012

RETURN TO THE HILLS (Sonnet for My Keith, and Our Little Blue Cabin in Ohio’s Hocking Hills)

 

0514181254b

How many years have you and I come here
To seek a respite from demands of time?
We listen long as birdsongs echo clear,
From porch swing’s nest, to hills we dare to climb.

We had to leave behind our getaway,
As pressures of life’s urgencies took charge.
This season rendered cabin dreams “someday,”
But pressing needs no longer loom so large.

We’re homebodies (both you and I), and this,
Our quiet cabin nestled in the pines,
Feels so like coming home, it’s simply bliss –
This space where life and harmony align.

I’ve seen these hills with no one else but you.
There’s none with whom I’d rather share this view.

© Marie Elena Good, 2018