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Isn’t It Romantic

(x = space)

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Isn’t It Romantic

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Moving shadows write the oldest magic word.

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Isn’t it romantic

All the snow

Pristine on tops of cars

That shouldn’t have to

Move just yet

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Sidewalks

Half undone

While scraping shovels

Focused machines

Work on the rest

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And isn’t it delightful

A snow day

Begging us to stop

Like toys

Wind up to unwind

For an hour

Of contemplation

Reading something new

Or press

Against a favorite

Page or person

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There are those

Addressing danger

They are blessed

And we should help them

After

The stolen hour is done

When we return

To epiphany

Of ordinary time

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C L Couch

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“Isn’t It Romantic”

Richard Rogers, Lorenz Hart

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Photo by Maddy Baker on Unsplash

Northville, United States

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People Need

(x = space)

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People Need

(we need)

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Work

And salvation

Food and drink

Both safe

And a revival now and then

Safety itself

And companionship

Light in darkness

Not blinding

Not enigma

Shows the way

Only some direction needed

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A place to go to sleep

Maybe with others close by

To wake up in a medium

Of security

Here, we call it democracy,

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Which begs the first

And final matter

That is freedom

That we paid a paradise

To own

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C L Couch

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Photo by Matthew T Rader on Unsplash

Plano, TX, USA

A water drinking fountain with water flowing from it | Check out my blog: matthewtrader.com/unsplash

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Look Out

(x = space)

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Look Out

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Do I write

For affirmation?

I don’t think so

That wouldn’t work out

There would never

Be enough,

Wrong category

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I think I write

To say I’m here

(I think that’s

self-affirming)

More so, is to call

Anyone out there?

And there you are

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C L Couch

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Photo by Pascal Debrunner on Unsplash

The Rise of Orion

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Act 4

(x = space)

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Act 4

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Should we meet again

All the ragged feelings will return

Time and distance

Take their roll

I think we’ll recognize each other

I keep thinking of a rainy day,

Though most likely

It will be a normal, gray-lit day

Though loyalty

In a sky of blue

Would help

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C L Couch

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Photo by Gerrie van der Walt on Unsplash

Seelisberg, Switzerland

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Crazy Earther Kids

(x = space)

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Crazy Earther Kids

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How heavy

Is God’s hand?

Quarks and canyons,

Oceans

And neutrinos

Cosmic and subatomic

Creation and

Creating

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God is clumsy,

And a ridge

Is formed missing the

Mountain top

Designed;

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God sneezes—there’s

A platypus

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God can be funny about

Making things;

When

We get there,

We might receive requests

To teach

The angels humor

Based on

All our

Earth experience

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C L Couch

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Image by pen_ash from Pixabay

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Book War

(x = space)

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Book War

(preventive)

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It happens

When a group

Has a code

That is set down

For day-to-day

And legacy

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It took place with

The Quran

The evening of

The morning

When there was

Certitude that

There would be

A new

Generation

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The Christian Bible

Set off conflict

With each change,

Each schism

Set to fighting

Over what to do

For faith

And what the book

Of faith should say

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Not to mention

All the agnostica

Falling ‘round

The faithful

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How many books

In the book?

Sixty-six or seventy-two with

All that should be in

Sixty-six or seventy-two

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My version’s better

My translation

My paraphrase

No, mine

No, mine

No, OURS

Said with authority

No one outside commends

So we will need an army

Defending ink,

Scriptoria,

And brittle generations

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A Bible war

Could be fun for trivia

On pub night

But not to justify

The raping of

Constantinople,

Christians thieving Christians

Or the books

That fuel internal fires

Burning up Jerusalem

For faith

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Now, it seems

The Jewish book

For faith

Kept growing

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While some groups

For their faith

Don’t keep a book at all

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To say the least,

There’s fondness for a text

But to justify—well,

We’ve heard good things about

A declaration

And a constitution

And a touchstone

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We should not fight about it

But leave room

As at the table

After dinner

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Or the second half

Of sermons,

Engagement that most folk

Forget or remember

In leaving off

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coda

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If we write

And publish,

Pass around,

We should talk about it

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Since pages are not

Altars

(altars are not altars)

And there’s always trouble

With our idols when

In idolatry

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C L Couch

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Photo by Drew Murphy on Unsplash

Johannesburg, South Africa

I was on a work shoot in a suburban church in Johannesburg. I took a walk around and noticed this soft light spilling onto the pews. Immediately I knew I should get a Bible and place it there. To me this image speaks of the gentle peace that can be found in the midst of a crazy world.

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Quicksilver

(x = space)

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Quicksilver

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O God, our help

Help me now

There is sunshine

I should like it

And be thankful

I should be thinking forward

You know, make a plan

Take a firm step

In a new direction

While respecting

Where we’ve been

Amen

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C L Couch

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Photo by Adrien Converse on Unsplash

Bellingham, United States

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No Tricks

(x = space)

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No Tricks

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God help us

God will help us

If we ask

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Though God is not a raven

Or a spider

Or a god who wants

To play immortal pranks

In Asgard

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God is closer to a dragon:

Power contained,

Always ready for release

Of power

Or of learning

Then

Reveal

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Guardian of treasures,

Keeper of wisdom

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What do we want—

What do we want of God?

God is curled up to rest

Or stretched

While flying through the sky

And so much higher

Without need for air

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Would we like to go,

Would we like to ride with God?

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We might have to go through

A mountain,

First,

Or out until we find

A howling island

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Or inside

Our capillaries

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Once there,

Mind your manners

Around dragons

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C L Couch

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by Battle Brook – File:Valhallas.jpg, CC BY 3.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=84903609

Valhallas’ Asgard and Midgard peaks seen from north

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The Village Maker

(x = space)

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The Village Maker

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Around the Christmas tree,

My mother used to arrange

A winter’s village

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We knew it was winter

Because a sheet had been

Wrapped around

The base and all,

The buildings set inside the folds

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There were houses,

Naturally, most with

Peaked roofs though

There was one house top

That was crenellated

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Cardboard walls (and roofs)

Had been painted somehow

In manufacturing

With coats of glitter

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There was a church with

Paper stained-glass windows

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There were people

Plastic or metal

I’m not sure,

Walking through town

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There might have been a bench

For one or two to sit upon

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There were people, I believe,

Set in a one-horse sleigh

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There was a pond for ice

And skating, and there were

Ice-skaters there

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The pond was a small mirror

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I thought that was so clever

Of my mother

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There were holes in the backs

Of the houses and

The church,

Through which light bulbs

Were pressed and a wire,

All connected so that when

The tree was lit, the

Village was illuminated, too

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C L Couch

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Photo by Gard Skaar Johansen on Unsplash

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