Each Resurrection
Into the ground
The flesh of us
Organs inside the shell
Even
The ash of us
Return
Because the story goes
We came from there
And in that way
And
Exceptions notwithstanding
Must go back
It doesn’t end
We do believe
For those who do
Believe
That
There is more
A when
Even a where beyond
The mantle of the Earth
Rather
To the edge of heaven
There to judge
With any
Advocates
How things had gone
How awry
We treated
All the laws of God
Even the simple two
Commanding
Like the rest
Yet
Over
With the strength
And practicality
Of love
And so we rise and maybe to
Fine
Satisfying lives to come
I don’t know about clouds
And harps and
Such
Or everything be gold
Or the color of
Fresh snow
For all the tones
And textures
Here
For beauty
And sensation
More so the dynamos of life
Inside each one
They could continue
Now
Perfected
With open will and
New assignments
So that
What is to come
Is
So much more than cells
And atoms
Smaller things
To know
Someday
And all the larger matters
That
We took as Earth
And farther
As our media for strategy
Ambition
And the like
Because in all
Significance
Even to shadow meaning
Well
They were
It could be that heaven
Or what
Might be
Is more interesting
And active
Finally
A virtue out of busy
We don’t how perfected
And could there be
An element
Of risk
At hand
Depending
All the energy
The health
And who knows
What
And yet
The more
The most
Exciting days
To come
And though our call be not
To hurry
Still
This is what we have
In the offing
And to earn it by the balance
Or by grace
Cost
And accepted
Freely
So that we might get there
And
Once there
Without doubt
Are welcomed
To the
What’s next
Of eternity
Amen
As in
So it shall be
C L Couch
Photo by Steve Johnson on Unsplash
We Pray This Day
(to play)
God
Hear us today
We ask
In this gray day
Regardless
To have clarity
In you
Not
To know everything
But know enough
And suss
Enough
And feel it through
So that all of us
And
All inside
The major strings are played
And we make sense as
Instruments of
Harmony
To play for you in service
And in pleasure
Goodness(!)
Goodness
Pleasing you
While
Heaven’s performance
Shall be
So much better
Than our own and
Yet
Somehow
Coelic symphony
Conductor
To welcome
Someday
Our auditions
Amen
(and together)
Amen
C L Couch
Photo by freestocks on Unsplash
(human epilogue)
Sorry
Children
“Play” above
Means
Play as instruments
As we are instruments
Of the will
And in service of
The Lord
But God is not thoroughly
A spoilsport
And neither should
Liturgical leadership
Deny
That the play outside
Or inside
For sport is
Sanctioned
Too
If not at worship
Well
Before
Or after
If playing well
And God-approved
(and so
this way in
play
we pray)
Amen
(play ball)
Time Kept by the Ox and Lamb
Mary nodded
Pa-rum-pum-pum-pum
The ox and lamb kept time
Pa-rum-pum-pum-pum
A wonderful
Metered
And who knows
Maybe jazzy moment
As
We’re talking
Myth
And magic
More imagination
Overall
The ox and lamb
They kept
Time
While the drum was played
By a boy
Not a grown-up
For this first
Time
Not by a symphony
If there were a chorus
One of angels
It might have gone
Pianissimo
Then
Mary nodded
She could have tapped her toes
Or snapped her fingers
Though she was
After birth
And if she had been tired
She might have been tired
Then
And it might have been enough
To nod
As well as Joseph
After the efforts with all things
Arranging
Only nodding
Too
And then at midnight
All the animals
Join in
With voices we could hear
As being ours
Which is the legend
So that there’s magic upon magic
Contemporary
Ancient
Added to the textual lore
For fun
Perhaps
And without doubt
For meaning
And so let all created things exist
Parents
Children
Animals
Imagination and
Stories to tell
To sing
Maybe like animals at midnight
In a tappy
Or a jazzy way
Even a little wild
Like the passing of the Spirit
Through
And for
All things
C L Couch
The song “Little Drummer Boy,” first known as “Carol of the Drum,” was written by Katharine Kennicott Davis, appearing in 1941.
Photo by Carlos Coronado on Unsplash
Mister Lennon Speaks
(and is wisdom)
Love is all you need
Though I suppose
A budget helps
While on Earth
There are the bills
While there are bills
And the next generation
To support
Later engage
And then the war of worlds
Because the world
Will not have peace with us
And then it’s over
We move on
Leaving to them
What’s left
And all there is
And it is great for life and love
C L Couch
Photo by Behnam Norouzi on Unsplash
Anchoritely
1
Is there a quiet
A place from which
Someone looks out upon
A world
With all it is
And from a place of silence
So that everything
That’s deep inside
Must rise
So that there’s sensing
And there’s understanding
Something
About need
And reconciliation
Even how
Everyone might be fed
And saved to God
And for
Themselves
2
I imagine it of stone
Gray
With snow for a mantle
Along the open
Wintry porch
(outside)
While inside
There is enough technology
To know what’s going on
And to close that off
Quite easily
A place
I guess
For commutation
A place from which to gauge
The daily sky
To know
Leave separate
And bring together
All the seasons of
The Earth
C L Couch
Photo by James Qualtrough 🇮🇲 on Unsplash
What Shall Break Through
1
Unreadiness
Winter quiet
Though it’s weeks
Away
The sky is thinking on it
And the ground becomes more laden
Storing what it needs to store
Welcoming the flora
Fauna
That shall be sleeping there
It looks like snow
And if I were outside
I might say it smells like snow as well
Breathes
The new season
However apprehensively
About extremities
Of ice in breath
And snow
That the insides of our bodies
Will not be ready for
If ever
Like the extremes of summer
I suppose
2
Birth of a Mystic
Still
And still
Like the monk
The hermit
I await
And
Yes
These could be women
And each was
The desert mothers
Julian and cat
(female or male cat
I do not know
or
if there were ever
any kittens)
Hildegard
Teresa
Evelyn for the moderns
And who waits inside the cave
For insight now
Who bears the vision
We shall hear about
That
Shall be approved
A new generation
One of those young persons
Who dreamed dreams
And set them down
Enough
For publication
Or simply hearing here and there
Now and then
Until
The books
With illustrations
Shall appear
And we shall know we have something
Set
And new
3
Dream Dreams
And shall the winter bring them on
The ordinary
And the visionary
Angels adept upon the scene
To work
With mortals
To let grace behind the curtain
Become miracle
Upon the stage
Though none of it is acting
Though it might be staged like
Jacob
Or like Bethlehem
Or the leaping suns
At Fatima
Or like the truce of 1914
That was like
That was
Grace
And miracle as well
Human gifts
No doubt angel-approved
When all could breathe
A moment
Inside heaven
While on the field
The wired
Trenched
And blooded field
There could be such a peace
For a few hours
Even gifts and photographs
To mark
The Christmas season
And now
I am afield
Dealing in ordinary mystics
But they’re there
They’re here
Thank goodness
And with
The names
And books
And famous patroned pets
Shall breathe in each of us beholding
C L Couch
Photo by Karsten Winegeart on Unsplash
Good God
Good morning
God
I remembered this time
I was praying for a friend
On waking
Then remembered
I should simply
Say
Good morning
To my Lord
That’s all
I could
Confess
And I did resume
Petitioning
But what’s wrong
With simply and first saying
Good morning
To God
Which I hope God approves
God likes
And if so
Then maybe more should say this
Before asking things
First thing
A frame
In which
To have
All other works progress
C L Couch
(a sequel to something posted earlier)
Photo by Johnny McClung on Unsplash
My wife’s extended family lives in the hills of Pennsylvania, north of Pittsburgh. This is a beautiful scene I captured looking NW of the Allegheny River. [photographer's caption]
(I’m from the region.)
too late the resolution
(like Louisa G. in Hard Times)
she did it right
and she’s alone
I know
it will not last
in movies
with the rom-com aspect
but in life
decisions tend to
isolate
the more done on one’s own
the more isolate
one remains
call it conscience late
to be
a part of
worldly things
to surrender
what one might have had
for company in choosing
sides
and instead
go straight
if on a life track
like
a racetrack
on one’s own
so goes resignation
wrong thing
now try
the right thing
and because of all the circumstances
with
parochial judgments
now one shall go
along
alone
c l couch
In the novel Hard Times by Charles Dickens, there is a school of place of thought, in which a horse is a “quadruped” and little more. Nothing matters of the beauty or the majesty in horses. A child of the headmaster (and promulgator of the “quadruped” importance) is in essence trapped by the limitations in perceiving, well, anything. She learns, rebels, and is at peace with the aesthetics of the world by the end. But it is too late. She remains alone, sans family, in her good thinking.
I often think of this and her when pondering the story.
Here is a paraphrase of her final state: Louisa stares into her fire with a "gentler and a humbler face." She sees herself helping others but never marrying or having children (https://www.enotes.com/topics/hard-times/questions/what-is-the-conclusion-of-the-novel-hard-times-225779).
photo by Rich Dahlgren on Unsplash
I was walking up this horse path and lo and behold a horse was there grazing! I had to wait several minutes before I was allowed to pass. The golden hour sunlight helped make this one a keeper [photographer’s narrative].
The Last Month of the World
Immanuel
With humans God
Or some such
The point being that
We celebrate
We even
Have some special songs
Only to announce
That God is coming
Though God won’t be here
But
In twenty-five more days
And how shall we fill the time
Decorating
Shopping
Going to the movies
The Oscar-hopefuls will slip in
In time for
Consideration
And the wars and famines
And atrocities continue
Maybe
Unabated
Maybe with a thought
Toward easing up
By the twenty-fifth
As a universal
Holiday
As in
You don’t have to be in the selected
Group
You don’t have to believe
As I imagine there were atheists
Between the trenches
On that eve
In 1914
Though I’m thinking
The world is often an awful place
Awfuler
This year
And I’m thinking nothing will
Change by then
The end of the month
This
Year
Then
More’s the pity
As some say
More’s the loss of life
Of limbs from the
Otherwise-knit living
Of heath through
Preventable disease
Or the lack
Or loss of
Fire
Through more attention paid
And even floods be lessened if
We did not pollute
So much
And there are twenty-five
Days
To fix everything
And
Well
I don’t think it will
Happen
Because it might
Take
Twenty-six days
Maybe even thirty
C L Couch
Photo by Lucas George Wendt on Unsplash
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