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Mortal Timing

(x = space)

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Mortal Timing

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It’s cool today

Thank goodness

I am thankful

I guess I can’t haiku this

No artful three-line

Praise

Or only observation

Out of nature

Yet nature should be thanked

We are lucky in this hemisphere

Just now

North enough

And south enough

(ecumenically)

Praise fall’s invocation

Of bright colors

Praise the God

Who shows us grace

With autumn

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Someday

The seasons mesh

Their virtues celebrating

All together

How trees will bear fall colors

While serving new life below

As spring

And summer

Under winter’s cover

We don’t know

(maybe there will be quarters of

seasons’ perfection)

But it is heaven

And new Earth

And these miracles will work

Like clear gold

In the streets of

New Jerusalem

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C L Couch

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The twelve gates were twelve pearls, each made of a single pearl.  The great street of the city was of gold, as pure as transparent glass.

Revelation 21:21

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Photo by Steven Cordes on Unsplash

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Let Angel Minds Inquire More (two poems)

(x = space)

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Let Angel Minds Inquire More

(two poems)

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And Can It Be

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The stakes are doomsday,

The life of the world

There are sides

There is disbelief

There is, as people have,

Denial

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What comes next

Is mystery

The greedy hope to outlive everyone

At the cost of everyone (else)

There is delusion

All around

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Maybe we’ve given up

On bomb shelters

Except the big ones no one knows

The war is still blue

With cold

There are madmen all around

Maybe madwomen

Maybe not

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That They Should Gain

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There are those who gain from this

While the bombs are kept at bay

(in bays)

Accruing

At the cost of someone else

Reducing supply,

Raising prices

Getting us used to

Three dollars a gallon

Against the early day

When it was thirty-five cents

Or the day

A while before

To fill the tank on two dollars

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Should we lose it all

Maybe not in war

Maybe in destroying Earth

In other ways

(we know these, too)

We won’t believe

It is that bad

Or we shall gain it all

Back again

And more

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In less

We think there’s more

A trickster’s game

The raven sometimes has a plan

To teach us

Something

There is hope

In its cry

It cannot be

Too late

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C L Couch

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with thanks to Charles Wesley, brother of John

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By © User:Colin / Wikimedia Commons, CC BY-SA 4.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=48615973

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Gospel According to Today

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Gospel According to Today

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The gospel for today

Is pick something

Choose something like a star

Says Frost

Or enter through time’s wrinkle

Teaches L’Engle

Who taught us to type this way?

They have names

And objects as names

They are the first typewriter

Makers, manufacturers,

And agents

Not bad people

How would we have got this far?

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Forget them all today

Go outside

And listen for good news

Type it on your minds

Let your tongues be pages

As you tell

Others

What is wonderful

And challenging

And terrible

And potential

In the day

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C L Couch

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Photo by alyssa teboda on Unsplash

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transept

(x = space)

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transept

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and what presses in from outside

the church

the light of day

human noise

the natural world

the word of God

that says open the doors

and let me in

let those come too

under my arms

my coat or cloak or umbrella

those who are also

under my care

Ignorance and Want

and many others

ignorant of allegory

needing shelter and recognition

these are people

these are my creation too

let us in

then let us out

bearing what you may provide

what you have here

for their good

and mine

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c l couch

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photo by Bcny on Unsplash

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The Awful Day

(x = space)

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The Awful Day

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A strategic

Maybe a cosmic

Joke

For terrorists to play

On us,

Choosing the day that means

Emergency

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This year

The President is at the Pentagon

The Vice President is in New York

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I was teaching then

And only understood in parts

I heard a part

And drove to work

Entered the classroom

The TV was on

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Then the sorting-out began

With news,

With

People we knew who might have been there

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C L Couch

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Photo by Julien Maculan on Unsplash

Downtown Manhattan view from Brooklyn on September 11, 2001

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Time and Again

(x = space)

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Time and Again

(for J. R. R. T. in the birthday month)

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Sometimes

We know it’s happening

Far away

By powerful people

National leaders

Soldiers with weapons firing

Or

A catastrophe

That has not befallen us

Specifically

And like parades

We know they and these are passing by

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Sometimes it’s here

Still not for us

Our role might be

To observe

Or like the chorus

Comment on events

But this is not our stage

We are not the players

Not the principles,

At least

When there is news

We will know more

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Sometimes it is our time

The light might be on us

Maybe not

But it is our time

The actions

And the consequences

Our place in the world

To secure

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Perhaps I mean

The deaths of kings

(inclusive)

Then a fire in another part

Of town

Then maybe no more than

A birthday celebration

To have with grace

And thanks

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Or maybe our time

Is more important

However to us

It seems

To the people

To the planet

To the cosmos

Believe me or not,

It could happen

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It happened to the hobbit

Most of us are hobbits

Even without the provenance

Or wealth

(before the treasure is acquired)

Of Bagginses

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C L Couch

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Photo by Look Up Look Down Photography on Unsplash

Hobbiton, Mata Mata, New Zealand

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From the Margin to the Center

(x = space)

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From the Margin to the Center

(Charles III)

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He said it in his speech

Bring the marginal

To the center

They might need rides

And smart, official people left behind

To assess the situation

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They need to come

Angry, surly

Cynical and hopeful

Their pain needs to be understood

Not so much talked about

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They’ll need a promise

Not assurances

The weight of a contract

And a moral contract

As if made with the ground

The promisers are standing on

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God help the British king

To bring back

The table round

And a belief of might for right

As classically expressed

Though contemporary lived

Policy

And money

Where they matter

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England is still post-war

And inside war

And must be ready still for another

But all the lonely people

Isolated like the wanderer

In an ice age that was once the north

Of need,

The people need companionship

And energy

Ways to live feasibly

As an island nation

As the English,

Each one

And together

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Don’t talk

(anyone)

So much next time

As act

God save the king

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C L Couch

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Photo by Anna Dziubinska on Unsplash

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Welcome Home, Elizabeth

(x = space)

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Welcome Home, Elizabeth

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You are the queen I’ve known

Since the beginning

As far as queens are needed

You were a good one,

I suppose

The diatribes against the royals

The subject of satires

The troubles throughout empire

And empire itself

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You weathered like your namesakes

And your name become namesake

And were a person, too

The richest one

And with responsibilities

Some were known

In florid style

Cavalry and plumes

Other deeds and institutions,

Even

Remain unknown to most of us

Except the benefacting

And the benefacted

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I’m sorry that you’re gone

I suppose there’s time

For the son

And then more sons

And when shall be a queen again?

And will she be Elizabeth

For all the virtues and the flaws

Of first and second?

The queen is dead;

Long live the subjunctive queen

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C L Couch

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Photo by Jack Lucas Smith on Unsplash

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Hear the Sky

(x = space)

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Hear the Sky

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Today the sky is talking through

The rain,

Discussing how to wash the

Earth

Tonight the sky

Might be humming a humid tune

About solace, anyway, and rest

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The sky can sing

Through brightened colors

The rainbow, yes,

But don’t forget the message

In the blue,

Beauty that is not owned

By anyone

That doesn’t care for borders

But flies over them

Unchallenged

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The sky is its own master

We can hear that anytime

It will speak its blessings

Or admonishments

Maybe we should listen

And respect

And offer messages of harmony

Ourselves

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Does the sky hear us?

It may have heard

It might hear again

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C L Couch

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Sunset in Vancouver

Photo by Ferdinand Stöhr on Unsplash

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