first day after ashes
count forty without counting
cross ice and green times
c l couch
photo by Oleg Lang on Unsplash
2 haiku for Ash Wednesday
ashes to ashes
‘round rosies with the posies
cast east of Eden
Lenten rite with ash
as mortal if devoted
heaven bring us home
c l couch
(first haiku could stand a Works Cited or would it be allusions cited?—I will cite Genesis 3:19, part of the pronouncement of God upon Adam and, as far the new postlapsarian state of things goes, upon all of us)
photo by Ahna Ziegler on Unsplash
fish Friday
it’s a gray day
should it get darker
it will look more
than
a fish Friday
in Lent
we’ll hear the silence
the press
of what
will feel more
the smell of storm
for now
the taste
of dry moments
is it a desert
underneath the gray
a world
we will not recognize
has only
death to offer
after all rewards
of Earth
and us
a plane
that has no feature
(worse than deserts)
no signals
no direction
anything
to show a way
to make sense of
any steps
we might try to take
while on this
measureless
level
that might not be level
for
we could be upside-down
or inside-out
then wake up
to Friday
and it’s Lent
the season still
a still
season
have the fish
go to church
whatever
make it count
whatever
listen
watch
and learn
our faith
and our existence
might rely
on these
here
there are
symbols and signs
arrows
stones in a line
weights
to appreciate
and even try to carry
in a season
one walked this way
and every step
a burden
smoothed
wickedly
by sweat
and blood
we’re on our knees
we also
try to walk
that way
the steps now dried
through ages
wearing
ritual
the chance for meaning
or indifference
our choice
like the choice
for faith
Friday
Lent
and the other days
without fat or sugar
or without
tradition
make tradition
with the faith that is forever
that unchanges for
our ages
mutable
and
so very
needful
c l couch
photo by James Coleman on Unsplash
[photographer’s caption follows]
I took this on the 22nd of April 2019, on the day I heard of the bombing of 3 churches on Easter Day in Sri Lanka. Jesus weeps with you.
canon
could not love
be a round
as in
I sing
and you sing back to me
we sing
in a circle
one segment sings
and then
the one nearby
we hear the building
then
the denouement
of sound
and in the echo
of our making
the last
notes pass through
a valley we
have also made
of peace
c l couch
photo by Alessandra Caretto on Unsplash
a prayer
mother and father
heal them
and help them
help our family
and our friends
help all the strangers in the world
whom we do not know
but you know
through and through
c l couch
photo by Timon Studler on Unsplash
2 poems kind of about brokenness (sorry)
When the Circle’s Not Unbroken
The Lord
Invites us
To the circle
Or the square
Or something oblong
Maybe
Rhomboid
To something
Maybe broken
For design
Or due to
Some experience
That seems
To break up everything
Fear
And anger
Breaking out
Without
The lines
To keep it in
To keep what might be loved
Therein
Though love remains
In the fragments
The Lord
Cares for us in these
And if the situation
Backs in
From extreme
The parts
Maybe come together
In a new shape
If partial
While we gesture
Talk
And work on fixing
For a while
Call it prayer
Call it Bible study
Call it therapy
Or medication
Every means
That helps
In measured
Dosage
And discretion
‘Til something like
Our circle
Even as
Something else
Shall come together
Maybe with a new
Amen
March on Two Left Feet
(or right)
The fifth already
Seems like
March is
The right name
The lion hasn’t really
Come
Though are there hints
Of lambs
Is a fair question
It’s in-between
A kind of academic
Purgatory
While the sky
And Earth
Decide
To fix the things
From winter
Into spring
We hope
The flowers undeceived
The planting happen
In its own
Good timing
That might have to change
Or not
Should good-guessing be required
By planters
Of all kinds
Who typically
Are breathing through
Northeastern cold
While waiting
For green seasons
To begin
C L Couch
Photo by Pawel Czerwinski on Unsplash
Manic Monday
(and don’t panic)
God sang
The song into creation
The lion did as much
And our holy words
In works
Imply
We are created
We are that song
Or its interpretation
In darkness
And in light
And the bestowal
Of a garden
With the first object lesson
For the teachers
That the garden
Stands
For something we
No longer have
While we must work
In labor
And in labor
For
What we got
Each era is a lesson
We could say
And maybe they progress
The human ages
Which is why
We say
They’re ages
(we get older)
We grow
Some
We adapt
Physically
Some
Though not as much
As one might think
For as long as we’ve
Been here
And this might not be
So much by us
As by
The touch of God
God knowing
We’ll need adaptive parts
As we go on
(grow on)
What do I know
It’s Monday
And I’m feeling existential
With the blues on electric pages
Making less sense
To me
(than could it be
our music style)
Than paper
With its white
And off-white
Receiving of
Our pen strokes
Painting
With black ink
C L Couch
[note to me and now to us
so what’s this poem about?—it’s about thinking and writing, yes, really about both]
I am having trouble with the blue lights on computers. Or the part of the lights that are blue. Or maybe feeling blue. I think it’s both.
The result is that I’m even more recalcitrant in using this thing. This vital thing. I’ve had to use it for a while then rest my eyes. Rest my eyes upon the rest of the world.
So if I’m worse about responding than is typical (and typically it can be pretty bad), then I’m sorry. But as the emperor said quite uselessly, there it is.
--Christopher
Photo by Marija Zaric on Unsplash
Nous existons. Vraiment.
Lift
(the congregation sings)
Humble sign
Of
Ordinary execution
Ancient
Egyptian
Means
And then Roman
One by one by one
And two
We make this cross
Depict it
Empty
Or with Jesus on it
C L Couch
Photo by Marek Piwnicki on Unsplash
Ancient of Days
God
As God
Requires
That we love God
With our minds
With our hearts
With our souls
And that
We love our neighbors
As ourselves
Which does mean
Self-love
Must be in there
Too
It isn’t a request
It is a command
From God
First command
Second command
At least as Deuteronomy
And Jesus
Has arranged
What we are told
To do
I know we see all this
As optional
As if God required less
Than the military
Or our bosses
Or out contracts
Though these came first
And do not change
With rank
Or a new job
It is a
God who commands
For whom blood was required
And a nation follow
Or be brought down
Be outcast
By the power of
Worldly forces
That won the day
Because the people had
Abandoned
God
And faith
And certainly
Obedience
It all seems ancient
Irrelevant
And at best
Relative
Doesn’t it
We moderns do not live
This way
We don’t fret over altars
Or unblemished offerings
Not of animals
And certainly not
Ourselves
We take the dross of doctrine
Leave the rest
Inside the book
Inside the church or temple
That we enter and exit
Now and then
Even weekly
Without doubt for holidays
Yes
Without doubt
This year
God loves
God waits
God invites
God doesn’t require
Fancy dress
Or best behavior
God love us as we are
Wants no change
Might wait for deathbeds
For confessions
And an
Affirmation
Guaranteeing heaven
Or God’s our pal
And pals don’t leave other pals
Out in the dark
The rain
By the gate
That we’re sure will open for us
God’s our pal
The dross of doctrine
Looks
Behavior
What we give
Whom we serve
Tangential faith
Appreciation for the invitation
Please stand by
The modern spiritual life
Lukewarm at best
And it seems
God doesn’t cotton to
Lukewarm
Or bits of this or that
That might be good
If only by
Our arguments
Or statements
To the press
Or whoever might be listening
In the mirror
We’ll get around to God
Perhaps
The way God is
And what God wants
After work
And after home
And after neighborhood
Relations
Maybe during vacation
Or really
After
Maybe when we’re there
And hear a sermon
We could instead
Think about what God wants
Think in our own way
Decide
In our own way
Maybe after entertainment
And by the way
For a show I pay with some money
In the plate
This should all be more
Impressive
Than it is
On my own
I might do better
Find better
Maybe I don’t have to come back
So much
A touch of religion
Less of faith
Nothing like
The mind
The heart
The spirit
After all
Faith is not that smart
It’s not material
Enough
It doesn’t admire
What I do
And what I have
Enough
And I don’t see faith
Changing wars
Or floods
Or earthquakes
After all
And how did people
Used to believe
With dead animals on altars
No
Thank you
I’ll take life as it is
As it’s progressed
As it’s civilized
With all the medicines
And the technology
With the better weapons on our side
How relevant
Is a faith in God
How necessary
Children know what to do
They have Mister Rogers
Sesame Street
And everything else
Approved
For their good growth
They are healthy
I’m sure
And if not all of them
Well
They were slipped through
The loop
Somehow
And that’s too bad
But most of them are fine
As most of us are fine
What more
Can we want
And God
Well
God
An invitation
Well
That’s nice
Maybe when I’m older
Have less to do
Fewer things
To worry over
Figure out
Make plans for
Yes
Then I’ll have time
Really to think about
Religion
And what a God
Might really want
That I could give
I’ll have less money then
But I’ll time
Yes
I’ll have time
To give you
That’s all right
Isn’t it
I mean
You’re a loving God
Which means your patient
Right
You’ll give me all the time
I need
C L Couch
Photo by WILLIAN REIS on Unsplash
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