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The Second Day

(x = space)

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The Second Day

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The day

After resurrection

Jesus appears to many

There is work to do

After the great miracle,

It seems

Affirming what Mary

Has said

Showing marks of wounds

To Thomas

Teaching, still

Cooking fish beside a fire

Talking about metaphors

Of sheep

Hoping Peter understands

Then after many days

Of words and signs

A leavetaking

Leaving instructions

Until he should come back

Having left a promise, too,

Of help

Like his

In fact, him still

This person will indwell

Like blood, like bone,

Like organs

Like thoughts and feelings

That’s pretty close

Inside

A guide

Someone to speak to worth

 A presence, bearing

Through the times

Of pleasure and of pain

The ease of life

The things we never think

To get through

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It’s a busy time

After Easter Day

There will be letters

Words

Greetings, admonishments

Compassion

Affirming of directions

These all will last

In the book through Revelation

Until, in fact,

Parousia

And the obvious way to do it

Spirit inside, outside

All partners now

Treading the new fields

Of new Earth

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C L Couch

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Interested Bunny waiting for food.

photo by Stefan Fluck on Unsplash

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Breastplate of Not-Saint Christopher

(x = space)

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Breastplate of Not-Saint Christopher

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God of love,

Hear us

God of glory,

Call us

God of peace,

Correct us

God of provision,

Guide us

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God of heaven,

Bear us

God of story,

Teach us

God of origins,

Remind us

God of chemistry,

Shield us

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God of mercy,

Heal us

God of joy,

Thrill us

God of anger,

Love us

God of light,

Care for us

God of darkness,

Guide us

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C L Couch

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Equestrian statue of Joan of Arc by Paul Dubois, Saint-Augustin Square, Paris.

https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=16872826

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heat shield

(x = space)

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heat shield

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the bottom part of spaceships

burning through the atmosphere

like the bush

without consumption

(hopeful)

saving those inside

to land

and tell the story

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frost over winter’s

sleeping seeds

the surface or the ocean’s

skin of condensation

human skin that

tries to keep intact

all that’s coursing beneath

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shields

under which

we live

and move

and have our being

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and faith in these

like faith in God

forgotten in the moments

of the living

calculating rescue

modulating pleasure

coming home

when tired

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created

put-up

somehow provided

the ozone that we shake

the atoms that we split

inside lead-and-concrete structures

while we are cognizant

and hopeful

for what’s happening inside

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we need these

we forget them

sometimes late

we recall the need

for maintenance

small

seasonal

or cosmic

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sometimes

like a cloud

to touch

should one be

unprepared

one thing covers another

a parent’s arm or

a friend’s for a friend’s

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whether cloud

or branch

or wing

or human flesh

don’t doubt

there’s love in there

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c l couch

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photo by Frank Zhang on Unsplash

(caption presumably by Frank) This is the bottom of the space shuttle Endeavour, which currently sits at the California Science Center in Los Angeles. I noticed the patterning on the bottom of the shuttle, probably the heat shield.

(note by me—looks like its own via dolorosa)

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Anjali Mudra

(x = space)

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Anjali Mudra

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What does love say

On this or any other

Plain day?

The sun is out for now

Dust is settled

Here and there

Some of the folds

In the blankets have been

Smoothed out

It is a lonely day,

And that’s all right

Not as a concession

But as a source

For small peace

That could be broken

Should the phone

Be lifted

And knowing that,

There is no desperation

A quiet day

An ordinary day

A day between the holidays

As most of our days are

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Nothing to own

Gifted

Are the seconds and

The minutes, the hours

And the dust

Our scant possessions

No matter how tall

Or deep

They can’t defeat

The mountains

Or the trenches of the deep

We can coexist

There is no point

In conquest

When nature rolls everything

At last

Into the waiting ground

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Fight it

Or have

A knowing peace

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C L Couch

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Photo by Levi Meir Clancy on Unsplash

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Create in Me

(x = space)

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Create in Me

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The Spirit of God

Might not

Be inside the tree

But the Spirit

Might dance with the tree

And many trees

From time to time

I don’t know

How things are invested

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The Spirit of God

Might be in the tree

When exigency

Requires

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God is a rock

As a metaphor

But not the real thing

Having made the real thing

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There is that

Burning bush

That burned and didn’t burn

God used

And rearranged

The matter of

The bush in that encounter

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So maybe with the atoms

Of existence

The Lord loves to live beside

God or God’s agents

Asking for

Rearrangements

From time to time

To suit a miracle

A message for

Sixth-day creations

Who can have God inside

Intertwining

Spirits

When desired

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C L Couch

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Photo by Conscious Design on Unsplash

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Servicing

(x = space)

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Servicing

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God,

I often talk to you

In thought

Do you hear me?

I hope so,

Because I rarely

Think about it

Twice

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Do you need

The uttered word?

I’d think

You wouldn’t,

Though maybe

My part

Is to speak

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I think I let you in

A while ago,

You see

And while you’re

There

You might as well

Have the run

Of the place

Including the talking parts

That happen

On the inside

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Life in the Spirit,

I believe,

With an angel’s assist

I hope it works

This way

I’ll pray out loud

As well

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C L Couch

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Photo by Emil Widlund on Unsplash

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To the Cat Who Called at 3 a.m.

(x = space)

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To the Cat Who Called at 3 a.m.

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Caterwauling

(must be how we got the word)

I open the door, look down

Into round eyes,

Fuzzy-looking face, striped fur

You come in

Walk around, inspecting

You like to have me pet your face

And around your ears

I try to pick you up

That does not go well

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So I leave you to explore

Find all the levels

Try them out

You knock some things over

I sit until you jump on me

Time for more petting

Then we’re tired

‘Cause it was already late

I leave the door ajar

Lie down

I wake up, there you are

Close by

Looking sleepy, too

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After a while, you leave

You meow some more

But now it’s daytime

Better for meows’ acceptance

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Later on, it’s quiet

You had made another visit

Here,

Then gone out

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I trust you are back in your place

I hope it’s a good one

Feel free to drop by

Again

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C L Couch

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Photo by Bogdan Farca on Unsplash

not the cat (but looks like)

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An Odd Peace

(x = space)

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An Odd Peace

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Too much loss

Too long

Too much to rebuild

How can we face it?

But for the

Cessation of hostilities

That sounds official,

We can bear it

On our own

For each other,

Help the ones who can’t

To let them in at home

When home’s

Returned

Rebuilt

Re-welcoming

Known inhabitants

And guests

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If I woke up and

There were

Rocks outside my door

Plaster, dry-wall dust

On everything,

I’d feel a cry

If not a wail

Build up

And if there more

Blood and such

Then other instincts

Anger and assistance

While the

Keening is considered

A savage peace

For hearing nothing

Letting medicine

Take over

While I slept

Even through sirens’

Calls

The mermaid singing

The murderous intentions

Of humanity

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There would be

A day

I might walk through it

Would I be made to leave?

How would I be fed

The markets gone

And where are you?

Small parts

Of war,

And I would want

To resign it all

While also thinking

About a gun

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C L Couch

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Photo by Museums Victoria on Unsplash

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For Wednesday’s Children

(x = space)

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For Wednesday’s Children

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What could I wish

For Wednesday

But that peace be

Everywhere

That life be for

Discipline and contemplation

Invention

Exploration

That we have enough

And a little more to share

That we accept who we are

And go from there

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That we can be clever

And delighted

And united

That we are strong

Not for strength’s own sake

But for protection

And defense,

As we say defenses are

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That selfishness be understood

As good

As long as otherness count

As much

Maybe a little more

Because Thursday might come

For sacrifice

The highest form of service

And be human,

Love from the highest

That is God

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C L Couch

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Photo by michael podger on Unsplash

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