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Liturgies

Familiarize

(x = space)

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Familiarize

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It’s my brother’s birthday

I have brothers

I have a sister

So do you

We’re in this together

What did Franklin say,

We hang together

Or we or each hang

Separately

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That may sound crass

I may

A side-swipe at togetherness

I wish there were more

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I wish there were more

Friendliness

Maybe in the Midwest

Or the South

You know

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You know

The easy kind of

Hi, how-are-you kind

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And for a moment

We mean it

Then move on

As if we all were brothers

And a sister

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Our people

One by one

A crowd

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C L Couch

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Photo by Ravi Sharma on Unsplash

Street of Delhi, India.

Chandni Chowk, New Delhi, Delhi, India

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A Living Season

(x = space)

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A Living Season

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Food and water

Bread and wine

For mass

And other celebrations

After

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Liturgically,

We note salvation all the time

Symbolism’s good

The real things

Are better

When they meet our needs

To lift the worldwide press

Off a crushing world

(metaphor again

they teach)

Are better

x

Symbolic food

Give actual food

Safe water in the present

Wine to seal the deal

For those who allow

As in that crass (unclassed) and useful way

We might worship

And also act in the world

x

Give money from a distance

Distribute packages

Place clean rims of containers

Upon parched, maybe dying lips

When everything’s all right

We’re fit

To talk about the rest

Negotiate

For healthy people

x

All this would make a season

Health is good for the economy

Living without

The need to bury

‘Til the righteous time

Worked into the primal design

And a pattern

For humanity

x

That make us better

People for the moon and Mars

Keeping us whole

At home

A home to have

And to return to

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C L Couch

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Photo by Rebecca Matthews on Unsplash

My husband and I have begun a few new ventures after getting back to ‘normal’ from the house fire we suffered in Feb. this year. I now make handcrafted soap, and he bakes bread and cookies. Our new neighbors love us, as they get to enjoy the fruits of our labors!

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Brigid negotiate

(x = space)

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Brigid negotiate

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it’s the solstice

light a fire

the ancient gods

might have gone under

maybe to sleep

maybe to reconsider

but we want them

back

we want them

today we say

we want them to return

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raise up the plants from seeds

so there might be

food

oxygen

and beauty

x

the sun-dwindled

day

unevenly dividing

light and dark

for winter

either side

contending

in the extreme seasons

x

have song, have silence

there are hours;

sing something old

and write down something

new–pillars

of tradition

are often raised by

rebel words

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take nothing down

burn branches that are found

or acceptably

purchased

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if gods want blood

they cannot have it:

that is our modern

prohibition

no longer

the fashion

or the will

I say respectfully,

thank goodness

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Etain or Lugh

(Isis and Osiris)

might be mollified

with conviction

alone

or who knows maybe

with earnest play,

either

in the dance

around our dedicated

fires

and our spirits

moved

(maybe a feather for the soul)

x

have the day

contemplate

celebrate

we want the world to turn

to tilt the other way

through winter

through summer to the south

into spring

into autumn

all our seasons

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C L Couch

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https://www.timeanddate.com/calendar/winter-solstice.html

Winter Solstice, Northern Hemisphere–North America, Europe, most of Asia, Northern Africa. In New York, New York, USA: Wednesday, December 21, 2022 at 4:48 p.m. EST. (Change location.) This corresponds …

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photo by someone I’ve cited before through Unsplash

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I’ve lost most of the connectivity with my computer. The problem might get worse before it gets better. I’ll be receiving a new router to try. But if I’m away from here for a little while, you’ll know why. Thank you. And if I must say this now, Merry Christmas, Merry Yule.

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a third poem (3 poems about ecumenicity)

(x = space)

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a third poem

(3 poems about ecumenicity)

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Later in the Day

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All the traditions

I can’t name them

Do you need me to?

Hinduism

Buddhism

Taoism

Jainism

Pantheism

See? there are more

And these are not

The yellow pages

(a reference to a phonebook

of listings in the USA)

Who believes?

Who decides?

No one decides, I think

Though

There has to be veracity

In coming to the table

x

The sole, actual criterion

Aside from interest

In community

Larger than

One’s own

(globally large)

Being lack of violent intent

Or practice

At or on said table

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There is risk

In all this, I know

Something precarious might happen

The clean-up will be prodigious

The pan might flash

But given consequences

More so the promises

To ourselves

And the generations following

Risk worth taking,

Don’t you think?

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Meet you there

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C L Couch

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by NASA/JPL-CaltechThe original uploader was SnoopY at English Wikipedia. – http://photojournal.jpl.nasa.gov/catalog/PIA03520Transferred from en.wikipedia to Commons., Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=1134766

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2 poems about ecumenicity

(x = space)

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2 poems about ecumenicity

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Many Things to Make

(nothing like a rant but a ramble)

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And there are other great traditions, too,

About which I know next

To nothing

Remembering the Gulf War when

Some of us felt ecumenical

And took part in gatherings of Christians,

Jews, and Muslims

Where I got to hear the testimonies

Of the followers of each

And who they were as persons

And believers

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There was a young woman

Of Islam

Who articulately smoothly,

Even beautifully

That who knew her better than her parents

With regard for her

And so who better to arrange

A marriage for her?

x

And I was convinced

And I disagree

And there was beauty in the

Disagreement, too

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Doubting that we changed much

Of anything—there

Was still a war, and our young

People left to fight—but

In the moments

Of these hours

There were the points of light

The President then

Had been asking for

Inside the nation

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There is so much more

To learn

About my neighbors

In the nation

And the world:

Who are the believers?

What do they believe?

What is the story of their faith?

Might they respect

The disagreements, too,

So that our world

Has a chance

To survive

To prosper

To believe

So that with integrity

We might reach for another world,

Too?

x

Pray the world lasts

Until we meet upon Megiddo

Not to fight

But have a meal,

Exchange apocalypse in faithful terms

And human

For a conclave

And a celebration

Of each other

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Reasonably

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Most of us believe

And there are those who don’t

Though binary’s not enough

There must be more

Than defining one thing

By its opposite

Humanists

Secularists

Unitarians

People of the Renaissance

Who gave science a category

Near faith

Without faith

x

Objectivists

Phenomenologists

People of reason

Rationality

Naturalism

Modernism

Fitter for post-modernism

Than the rest of us

x

Who could lead the way, in fact,

In appreciating

Difference

And diversity,

The creative celebration

Of the mind

And the experiment

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Sorry I must

Define these as an

Other

But they must be

Welcome at the table

They could welcome us

We could invite each other

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coda

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Yes, which is not to say

Believers are irrational

Some are

Some want to be

And there are those who keep

Their faith as

Something in the wild

Those who lost at Whitby

But kept the Celtic

Style and ritual

Below

And now in daylight

Seek in celebration

Understanding for the rest of us

x

But faith has reason;

Might we say

That reason is creation

By creator?

Say no

Say yes

But allow for some very smart people

To believe

x

No one has to change

Except in violent intent

It should be an instinct to

Understand oneself

When understanding others

x

Keeping in mind

With hopefulness

That the one requested

Will in turn

Turn toward you to say

And what is your story?

Delightfully,

Be ready

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C L Couch

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I was writing before dawn and thinking about the seasons that are upon us now, wonderful times—and that in the spirit of this or that we might serve each other not only better but also for the first time, the stakes being, well, everything

now it’s dawn

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by M. Garlick/University of Warwick/ESO – http://www.eso.org/public/images/eso1627a/, CC BY 4.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=99645426

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Blessings of Lights in Darkness

(x = space)

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Blessings of Lights in Darkness

(appreciation of a Gentile toward the Jewish family)

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Somewhere in Advent

Hanukkah begins

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Sundown tomorrow,

I believe

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Eight nights of blue

With silver lights

That dedicate

The temple

From our enemies

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They’re gone:

We don’t have to think

About them

x

Now, there’s chocolate

And treats

In games

And gifts,

Small delights

And big ones for the heart

x

Anticipation

Practice

Family

x

My ignorance

Like ignorance

Has walls;

I’d rather be inside

The spirit of redemption

And occasion,

The community

x

The relief in having realized

Somber times

x

The pleasure now,

The fun

Of shalom

x

Eight days

Of miracle,

Of remembrance and the meaning that

Creation is in food

Also in candle lights

And in each of us

Singly

And specially together

Now

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The one who saves is blessed

And offers blessing

And is the one

As one

Who provides seriously

And playfully as well

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Is here

Beyond the count of days

And nights

But who is here

Inside these eight,

All the intimate hours

As we draw near to them

To have,

To share

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Next year in Jerusalem

Then

And now with family

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From the source of blessing,

Bless

And

Keep you, friends

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C L Couch

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Call of the Light

Photo by Robert Zunikoff on Unsplash

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The Thing with Feathers First

(x = space)

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The Thing with Feathers First

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Birds are odd

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We like them for their

Feathers

And their beaks

And beady eyes

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They peck away

For food,

Sometimes for shelter

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They signal presence

And need

And declaration

In their calls

From their perches

Or flight plans

x

You see,

They know the seasons well

x

If we could listen

We might know more

x

They frustrate and inspire

Our need

To fly on our own

x

We might cherish the colors

Pinned to bodies;

We can make the colors

And so leave

Them on the birds

So we might complement

x

There is obsession

With the turkey

Once or twice a year

Over here

x

We breed them

So they’re not a challenge

Except to cook

And then to carve,

Which others

Might do

For us

x

We say it’s for the birds

Meaning silly

If not stupid

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We ignore their smarts,

Their networks

On branches and on wires

Not to mention through

The air

x

In folklore,

Birds carry messages:

Bird-banders wonder

What they might be

Telling us

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Why were we given birds?

As reminders

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About freedom

In captivity,

The sad and mortal Earth

And those who only know the ground

So well

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They teach us harmony,

Disharmony—sometimes

The savagery

In talons,

Sometimes the kindness

In community

Even survival

Glowing air

With song

Like litanies

For practicing our allegories

As all the notes rise

x

C L Couch

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“Hope” is the thing with feathers –

That perches in the soul –

And sings the tune without the words –

And never stops – at all –

. . .

Emily Dickinson

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Photo by thom masat on Unsplash

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(I saw a picture of a flicker in the desert, pecking into a cactus;

my grandfather was a bird-bander for the government)

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Lockerbie

(x = space)

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Lockerbie

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So many lost people,

Lost at Lockerbie

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They are in the news again

And should be;

All our losses need remembered

(losses’ need)

x

We think

A culprit has been found;

Headlines, texts, and images

Need smoothing out

x

How awful to be made

To remember

And how necessary

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Let’s not look

Away

But mourn

With forward eyes

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C L Couch

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Lockerbie bombing suspect in US custody

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Photo by Andrew Ridley on Unsplash

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If Not Charity

(x = space)

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If Not Charity

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There should be more:

God, will you have

More?

There is great need

Awful, tearing need

As if a maw

Like all the mouths we fear

Should swallow us

God,

Will you meet us there?

Charity begins

Where charity begins

We don’t interpret well

Who cares

Take up the toys

Gather in the food

Say something special

Better to be doing it

And saying it

What is giving

Don’t wait for philosophy

If you have a dollar

Or a handkerchief

You might be rich

You might be on the sidewalk

Where I called you

Says the Lord

Our God

Who is our God

And preaches mysteries

Though love is clear enough

Share it

Keep it well

Pearls planted well inside

The ocean of our need

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C L Couch

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Photo by Gabrielle Mustapich on Unsplash

Emerald waves from above.

Tofino, BC, Canada

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13 Though I speak with the tongues of men and of angels, and have not charity, I am become as sounding brass, or a tinkling cymbal.

2 And though I have the gift of prophecy, and understand all mysteries, and all knowledge; and though I have all faith, so that I could remove mountains, and have not charity, I am nothing.

3 And though I bestow all my goods to feed the poor, and though I give my body to be burned, and have not charity, it profiteth me nothing.

. . .

(from) Paul’s first letter to believers in Corinth

King James Version (and the tongues of people)

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