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Liturgies

Extraordinary Contract

(x = space)

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Extraordinary Contract

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And should there be

Devotion

Not for a deal

Though “if my people”

Sounds that way

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But simply for love

There shall be healing

In the land

In the hearts of waves

And inside trees

And inside us

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It sounds as if there’s

A contract

I suppose our avatars

Could act as agents

Though what creators

Might be needing

I can’t say,

Though gods have died,

We tell each other

For the lack

Of followers

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Thus happened to Apollo,

Artemis,

Hephaestus

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Creators need creations

Is that it?

Is that what’s to be believed?

If so, we bring material

To the table

In ourselves

For negotiation

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A mingling of mortality

With divinity,

Flesh with spirit

Not Nephilim

But honestly

Our callings come together

So that there is today

And a promise of

The next day and the next

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Flesh and spirit

Bargain of the ages

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C L Couch

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After German reunification, the Neue Wache was rededicated as the “Central Memorial of the Federal Republic of Germany for the Victims of War and Dictatorship.” The sculpture (by Käthe Kollwitz) shows a Mother with her Dead Son. The pietà-style sculpture is directly placed under the oculus, and so is exposed to the rain, snow and cold of the Berlin climate, symbolizing the suffering of civilians during World War II.

Photo by Marie Bellando-Mitjans on Unsplash

Neue Wache, Berlin, Germany

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Memorial Day in the USA

(x = space)

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Memorial Day in the USA

(2021)

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It is a holiday in the USA

I suppose the sales are good

And there will be

Shiny fireworks

Reminding us the day means,

Well, something

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There are days like this

Around the world,

As there should be:

Remembrances of those

Who fought and

Died in war

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The wisdom of strategy

And final choices

Is not on the program;

Like the Light Brigade,

There are those

Who served

Because they served

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Remember them,

Because their loss

Is the foundation

For unfought

Wars over silent

Battlefields

That were and are

And will be,

Someday

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C L Couch

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Golden Stars

Photo by Dan Dennis on Unsplash

World War II Memorial, Independence Avenue Southwest, Washington, DC, USA

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The Telling

(x = space)

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The Telling

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Pain and need

And maybe quotidian pleasures

This is a lifestyle

And it could be worse

It is, I know

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Which means it is all maudlin

From time to time

Though sometimes

Easygoing

When meeting with friends

Or hearing someone else’s story

God bless the phone

x

And should there be

Accomplishment,

Not quite

An accident of birth

Then gratitude should follow

With what might be appropriate

Surprise

x

But don’t we grow each day?

I like to think so

Maybe it’s a matter

Of discretion,

Not today I will be brilliant

But I’m writing and I’m reading

I’m listening

So closely sometimes

The grinding of old Earth

Is heard

The motion, twenty hours at a time,

Is felt vibrating ‘neath the heart

In the center

Of synapse

x

We grow, we also

Slow down

Three score and ten

I hope we take it with us

To the next stage,

Arriving in time

To be useful there

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C L Couch

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Photo by Omar Mohiuddin on Unsplash

Pakistan

(there is a painting by Turner of a moving train that this reminds me of

and, yes, there is a reference to Star Trek here–in the words, that is)

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It Might Be Magic

(x = space)

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It Might Be Magic

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Do you eschew

Institutions?

I do, anymore

The machines

Made out of people

Don’t blame the

Bureaucrats:

They operate

What others made

A breaking efficiency

In copper and in

Oil replaced by

Split atoms, unleaded

Gasoline and now

Other fuels

x

The early price

Was trees

And iron from the earth

Water unafraid

Unplastic skies

That might storm

But otherwise

Were trusted

x

Press agents lie

Because they forward

An agenda

They were told

Beyond the news

To promulgate

Or else

Lose their jobs

The heroes and the villains

All are mixed

Or so it seems

Because they’re not

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We are blended

Creatures now,

It’s true

Nothing of persisting,

Edenic status

Has existed for a while

And in our

Reconstituting state

Generations are confused

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Hamas has launched

Three thousand rockets

Into Israel

That fights with

More sophistication

Missiles from planes

And from the ground

More of us

Are good at war, these days

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I read the city paper

In the morning

To find out who has

Shot or otherwise killed

Whom

Or who preaches

On Hyde-Park boxes

That it should rain hate

Should we have our way

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There is an answer,

So many traditions

Espouse

It’s a good thing

And nothing new,

Ancient of ages

But statues will have to

Have their clay feet

Scraped out

Then with something better

Slid into place

And shaped

While the rest of us

The citizens, the voters

Hold the upper parts

The structures of society

In place

x

See,

Nihilism is not the answer

Nor to fire agencies

Especially with fire

We can keep

The inefficiencies

Of efficiency,

The inexactness

That comforts us

Knowing the machine

Is never all

But flesh and blood

And synapse

And our loves

Matter more

x

Next chapter,

All yours

It might be magic

But it’s not:

It’s mortal hands

Moved by mortal hearts

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C L Couch

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In the Line of Fire

Photo by Christopher Burns on Unsplash

Hay, Australia

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Either Way

(x = space)

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Either Way

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White people

Should behave

Black people, too

And everyone between

Or to either side

A line without a center

And no prominence

For anyone

And I can jump my place

With allowance

To come find you

Whiling away some time

With acquaintance

For a start

x

Friendship might grow

Might not

There would be freedom

Either way

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C  L Couch

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Photo by shannon VanDenHeuvel on Unsplash

Manhattan, New York, NY, USA

Published on May 13, 2021

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What You Will

(x = space)

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What You Will

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It’s Wednesday

A good time to think

On God

There is no holy day

I know of

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Either way,

God cares

And doesn’t care,

Welcomes us anytime

For prayer and

Conversation

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I know,

A mystical transaction

But there it is

Sometimes mysticism’s normal

Underhill might agree

(Evelyn or Frodo)

Gerald May

Or Parker Palmer

Mary Oliver

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But let’s say

Ursula K. Le Guin

Who stirred with genders

In her work

Long before the rage,

Who lived

In writing

And in company

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C L Couch

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a brief bibliography

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Ursula K. Le Guin, The Left Hand of Darkness, No Time to Spare

Gerald May, The Wisdom of Wilderness

Mary Oliver, Upstream or any publication—any gathering—of her poetry

Parker Palmer, Let Your Life Speak

Evelyn Underhill, Practical Mysticism

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Photo by Jr Korpa on Unsplash

Tree in Forest, Autumn Season

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The Salton Sea

(x = space)

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The Salton Sea

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I’d like to go into

The desert

Because I don’t know what

I’m saying,

Which isn’t true:

I lived in California

For a time

Went to the desert there

Saw the stars

At night

One day went to Palomar

Never got to

The Salton Sea,

Not knowing what I would

Have found then—

A miasma of

Mismanagement shown

In rusty signs and

Rotted beams

Or tries at reclamation:

Burying

Dead animals

Nailing together boathouses,

Pubs,

And homes

Maybe re-servicing

The Navy base

Maybe putting back in

All the water

That used to be there,

That kept

The crafted ocean

And habitation

Viable

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C L Couch

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Photo by Chris Montgomery on Unsplash

Salton Sea, California, USA

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The Fall from Mount Meron

(x = space)

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The Fall from Mount Meron

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I can’t imagine

I don’t want

The press of flesh

And muscles and of

Organs and of

Bones

While a ritual

A practice

An assembly turns into

Another kind

Unkind

Remembrance

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It’s brutal

Terrible

One could say

Awful

Filled with awe

And we pray for peace

And wonder how

A time to mourn

Was manifest

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C L Couch

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Israeli watchdog to investigate deadly festival stampede – Los Angeles Times (latimes.com)

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Photo by Yeshaya Barron on Unsplash

Har Meron

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Victory at Sea

(x = space)

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Victory at Sea

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The sadness

That so much is done,

So much never started

But then I’d want

Eternity here and now

Everything

All possibilities

From which to choose

And choose again

To get it right

x

Would that Earth

Could turn peacefully

So that choices might

Be made from

Wisdom and from joy

x

But too many

Steal podiums to say

Beat the other side,

Don’t hesitate

To shoot

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The second problem is

That hate will shoot back,

And when our

Magazines are empty

There is only peace

In death, that is,

Lives taken

x

Sibling murder

We pretend the other

Is not human

But a target for our rage,

For demon-stoked

Disapproval

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This is so the world is mine,

Rendered in my own image

With death the medium

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Would that

Famous people

Would shut up

And listen to the Earth

For a while

Then listen to us,

Which is nearly all of us

x

Pain, thirst

All kinds of ideas

And agendas

Find them

Find the stories

Hear them

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Let change happen

Speak to it

Let peace prevail

And every other goodness

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Favorite recipes

Homemade holidays

Comfortable shoes

Barefoot where the Earth

Is welcoming

x

We welcome each other

Sparing the lives that only

Insanity demands

And criminality

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There is little more to say

Stop destroying

Leave self-righteousness to God

From whom we can learn about

Justice

And safe water

And living as if everything

Is home

For everyone

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C L Couch

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The title is taken from a TV series about bravery in war.  Music by Richard Rodgers.

To be at sea also means to be adrift.  Wanting to head for home.

(Not that the ship in the image is adrift, as in having no control. I don’t know.  The ship looks lonely, though.)

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Photo by Javier Balseiro on Unsplash

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