On Waking
How do I wake through prayer
Or other measure
How do I know that you are there
Providing
Yes
Providing
In the pit of pain
Along an indifferent street
Or here
Surrounded by the stress of other people
While my own seems
Toppling enough
Be with me
Lord
And all of us
I must ask you to give
I guess the daily bread
Knowing
The cross should be enough
When I think on that
And sorry
I must ask for more
C L Couch
Photo by Syed Ali on Unsplash
the better reign in hell
(the devil says)
I exhale
you exhale
too
you better
unless it’s your time
in which case
breathe in peace in heaven
where there might be no breath
no need for it
or perfect air
in which to take one breath
or many breaths
forever
and water
such water
drink
wash
whatever
simply walk by
and feel the drops escaping from
the movements toward the
temple of the savior
and the monarch
one of the three
with three in one
and we might be three in one as well
each one of us
flesh
spirit
divine affiliation
life in heaven
noisy
quiet
safe except there were those hints of war
a ruin here and there
perhaps
not because the crafters couldn’t fix them
but because even in heaven
we should learn something
and there was rebellion
after all
or will be
and I don’t know who choses
maybe only angels
and
maybe we’re fodder on the Earth
the middle Earth
while in heaven we mortals-immortals now
much make our choices
too
renew our vows
toward one way or the other
cheering our side on
toward Armageddon
here
and so it seems
by prophecy
on the Earth we’ve known
and might know best
for a while
at least
new to our citizenship in heaven
closer to the leaders
Jesus with his love
Michael with his sword
the Spirit issues strategy
the rows of heaven
know
while God commands it all
and weeps
within a quiet hour in heaven
and maybe all eternity
cosmic
and ethereal
a time for tears
before the onslaught that’s been called
since Eden
or before
when the devil became serpentine
and with all fauna
was given a place there
and something honest
of its nature
but now
there is new gleaming
for the fight
that only one side wants
with one agenda for it
and on two plains
the ranks line up
for the first
and only battle
ever
to determine who shall win
heaven
with eternity
itself
and the reward
of breaking self from all
affiliation
to determine free
without direction
code
or morality to guide
no restrictions
or parameters
only
self
that shall lead to self-destruction
though the devil doesn’t care
for being lord of everything
that’s wrecked
against sub-lordship
subordinate if to only one
in heaven
the lordship
is what sells the angels on its
side
each one a monarch
to its own
and on the full-dimensional plane
that angels have inhabited
in all ages
in the ageless way
and that’s what is withheld
that everyone shall be a lord
of nothing
material
abstract
but over a lack of existence
more and more
in victory
so-called
lords of nothing in particular
having lost all matter
of all kinds
perspective the last thing
to go
perhaps
but something
and then nothing
which shall be the reign of hell
after
exhausting love
until only judgment
must remain
c l couch
photo by Sergio Capuzzimati on Unsplash
At the Crossing
(you know stop, look, and listen)
I still don’t think I have
Said anything for you
In any form
More so
With any good intent
Though I mean well
I care for you
And want you to live well
Helped in some small way
By a word
Somehow from
Me
To you
And so
What shall I say to you
But that I care
And from far away
Which might be safer for you
I can tell you
That you matter
Which
God will tell you better
If you listen
And
Behold
Something useful
Practical
Spiritual
I can say to you
Have said
In that
You matter
And God says so
So please
Listen
C L Couch
if you don’t want to hear from God, then find (a/another) trustworthy source—and I mean trustworthy
(gosh, today I’m feeling, well, moralizing)
Photo by Tony Pham on Unsplash
Road of hope..... [from photographer]
Nha Trang, Khanh Hoa Province, Vietnam
Love Is Come Again
Four Thanksgivings
Four
Christmases
Four New Year’s
Four
Valentine’s
All
These days
Sixteen
Seasons
Every decent lesson
Learning
This is awfulness in charge
Plus the thing
About
We get what we deserve
Rise of the selfishness
The dark side
With
Apologies to dark
That should be
Romantic
And impressive
An evil empire
For those who think
This is
An empire
Not
Better understood
A borrowed colony at best
Over which
Dimensionally
A judge maintains
And will
One day
Make plain
The judgment
Of all things flesh
And spirit
Of the material
And abstract
All names
Obliterated
Unremembered
Like sin
In a repentant land
Rather we shall own what is
Eternity’s
To own
Then
Names and things re-remembered
As it were
One by one
In openness
Of love
So that we shall have
The good
And not so much
Wanting
Any other
Wheat that in dark earth many days has lain
And then
Love is come again like wheat that springeth green
Certain songs knowing
By the souls
That move the songs for us
From
Sleeping ground
Onto the wakful earth
Over teaching water
Into faithful sky
C L Couch
“Love Is Come Again” (“Now the Green Blade Riseth”) is a hymn
Photo by Ksenia Makagonova on Unsplash
Each fat round acorn
Under my feet in white sand
An intimate gift
[photographer’s text]
courses
my abdomen
hurts
maybe from pressing on it
to be seated
maybe from gas
maybe
due to medication
maybe from stress of
maybe
something
existential
how is the day
and how’s the world
and how
much
should I care
and how shall my problems
go away
while this
side of
eternal matters
shall justice roll
my tiny stream
down to
a universal
sea
and shall that sea
move
indifference
to my causes
and
of course
it shall
it has its own concerns
with mortal storms
and all
and yet
the molecules of God
are with me
in mine
maybe a neutrino
or a quark
while the greater hand
might move with waves
to stir
or calm
that sea I think
cannot consider me
and the whole body
moved from forming Earth
into managing
the stars
as we say
in their courses
enforcing orbits
exacting
something like
cosmic obedience
though allowing for
the unpredictable
the errant comet
rascal
asteroid
as part of
divine predictability
contraries
embraced by
opposites uplifted
so that a little chaos
be allowable in
order
than back to you
and back to me
and how do we count
by God
and yet
we do
our bodies
on our bits of land
which is to say we
occupy
not own
and by the water
moving our concerns
toward that ocean
of collectiveness in which
it seems
impossibly
our matter
matters
too
everything we are
our cells
our abstract notions
with the uncounting qualities
of thinking
all emotions
of our loves
we may realize at any time
how remarkable
the small
however might be small
while larger things go
obviously from
that start of
things
day and night
Earth and all
and all in all
with each bit owned
if
maybe tallied
by beneficence
which is to say
God knows
and judges
and whose greater bias
as God
is to note all things
and love
all things
a refrain
the sea is so large
while
my boat so small
the merest of God’s breathing
for my sails
and shall I cross
and shall I transact
and then
shall I return
by the light that someone made for
home
(it would be proper if you thought of the Breton prayer upon reading what I'm calling "a refrain”)
C L Couch
Photo by Osman Rana on Unsplash
Long Exhale Now and Then
Exhale
And then a little more
Get it out
Whatever it
Might
Be
More than
A pulmonary test
Or getting the bad air out
As
In a cartoon
Getting into meditation
Only if
There is
The time
Otherwise
Breathe out
As
You would have to do
Anyway
You know to
Keep on living
But let it out
A little more
Not as an exercise
As much
As to
Let a little more
Of the bad air
Out
The promise also
Taking of
A little more
Of the good air
In
By God
In a kind of sponsorship
And also of companionship
Two promises
Not if
But as
They happen
Irascible
Indelible
Perfection in divine reality
As well as perfection
In the offing for the rest of us
Maybe
Beneath the angels
(the war in heaven notwithstanding)
For the mortal
Rest of us
C L Couch
Photo by Laura Ohlman on Unsplash
What Do We Say and then What Shall We Do
I crashed my airplane
Through your roof
Near
But not on
But near enough
To the place where you reclined
Holding a sketch pad
And I could even see the thing
With which
You drew
I apologized
For crashing through your roof
And through the ceiling
In the room
You demurred
Citing lack of inspiration to draw
Anything
That moment
In fact
For the hour
Or that day
So far
At least
And I said
Strange
I had my notebook and my
Pencil with me
Though sometimes it is a pen
And I
Was stuck
Coming up with something
Of substance
You know
To set down
How strange
She replied
That we should both be at a point
So to say
Where nothing was forthcoming
You for words
And me for an illustration
Still
I’m supposing that is not
Why you crashed
Into my house
Indeed
No
I responded
I crashed because
I’m simply
Not really good
At flying
Ah
She said
And I got out
And we had tea
With all the authorities
Whom
Arrived
And so we had our stories
Words
And pictures
Even
A collaboration of long-standing
Over years
In fact
After I paid for
The construction of her house
That is
It’s easy
Isn’t it
To crash into something
Do some damage
After which
We should apologize
Then fix
What we have fallen into
One person
State
Or nation
C L Couch
Inspired by What Do You Say, Dear? by Joslin Sesyle, Maurice Sendak
Photo by Martin Robles on Unsplash
Neuroplasticity
What do I want
Against
And with the world
I want green
That
Turns magnificence
Of blazing colors
Inside fall
I want a winter
We don’t have to be
Afraid of
Or in the depth of summer
Either
I want air
And peace in which
To breathe
Water
Not
To worry over for the
Safety
Of it
And while I think on
Needs
How about food
I don’t have to feel insecure
In
Having
Sigh
Something to do
That’s good
Maybe on the way to admirable
Though good
Is more
Than fine
Enough
Materials
To wear
And
To do the something
Cited only above
These things
Of mind
And spirit
And
Yes
Of squishy feelings
Too
I also want
What you want
And you may
Tell me
C L Couch
“your brain’s ability to learn and adapt to new challenges and experiences” (Cleveland Clinic)
Photo by Daniel Öberg on Unsplash
In Vigil Hours
Light and shadow
Move across the ceiling
We know this
In so many ways
By living near the street
Or with a passing
Storm
Or
Oh
So slowly
Moonlight moving in the night
Shadow and light
To make illusions with
Our help
While
We lie below
And
Frightened or inspired
Have the hours
Of night pass
C L Couch
Photo by Augustine Wong on Unsplash
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