3 poems about things turning such as certain times of year
hurry up
hurry up
let’s get me out of here
not
to the grave
despite my age that is closing in
on the classic threescore
and ten
but more peace
as I keep asking
which means I’ll need the wherewithal
to get there
which I think means
money
and assistance
more assistance in the way
of people
who are stronger than my heart-disease-ridden
body
can manage anymore
though
I’ve always needed help to move
who doesn’t
though now the urgency
is different
I believe
one more place this time
perhaps
one last place
in which to live
and
you know
hope
to live
please
which goes for a plea
I guess
I mean beyond the wordplay
in that we plea
yet
add a couple letters for more courtesy
with which
to ask
plea
as in deal
as in crime
plea
as in asking because it’s not only desired
but also it is urgent
what we want
or need
or offer in an intercessory
way
a petition
as it were from you
through me
and not that that should make so much
a difference that it’s me
but asking
anyway
on your behalf
of God
or the spirits of the world behind
under
perhaps
even
to add in some miracle
by magic
which isn’t doctrinal
I suppose
but how close the miracle and magic
maybe in the timing
at least
as in
was the miracle the parting of the sea
since by those who
know
purportedly
not an unusual occasion
though parting in the time
to save
the Israelites
and even close upon the enemy
with hurried wheels
following
with many deadly points from spears
and arrows
and yet
whatever passed for armor could not save
but they were
saved
the refugees
those who would become the desert-dwellers
as if to earn the promise of
new land
but
to bring it forward
there are needs
there are miracles
and
(arguably)
of magic
and I wish
not that it’s a lamp
inside a cave
I pray
(more earnestly)
that
what you need you have
possession
or direction
or some healing
as only the one who provides
may provide
knowing
what and how to time
miracle
magic
and everything
my friend
it’s time
another ashy day
goodness
we’ve had a few
days
right
for Lent
I guess
we can wear these days
upon our foreheads
should we wish
late is wan
but shows some color
after all
light gold
a kind of uneasy glaze upon
it all
not that the day is
bad
that’s up to us
and it isn’t hard to look at
but I think the day should have more green
and I’d think you would
too
not only for the sake of light
but the beginning of
you know
that verdant time
note
hurry up
please
it’s time
(titular frame based on a repeating part of “The Wasteland” by T. S. Eliot)
Shantih
photo by Anton Luk on Unsplash
cloudy days be good
and now there’s nothing
nothing new
renewing
and shall I say
the devil
won
and not really since
the devil is too small
and by the end
or even
now
unvictoried
if I let my spirit down
as in descent
now
that is something
and how far to go and then
to start my soul
back up
toward land and sky
again
and now the fool is mentioned
and the fool for Christ
comes
to mind
in
that the world thinks it’s wise
and admittedly
faith built on no evidence
material does
seen
nonsensical
if not Seussical
but like the cat
there’s foolish fun
especially
in
rain
(if in the house while it rains)
when clouds shall run
until the sun
return
with the typical
the good play when it’s easy-bright
and it is
and should be
but should
the rain persist wherever
some
foolish reasoning
be apt
as in have faith in the sun
find interest in the rain
believe
that both
and so many things
have
value
the better parts
supporting faith and does it go
better
the other way around
faith first
and faith below
and faith above and wherever
in
lack of transparency
we through the dark glass
choose
and live
to believe
c l couch
(with allusioning to The Cat in the Hat by Doctor Seuss, also 1 Corinthians)
photo by Damien Dufour on Unsplash
Pale Day
Pale blue
Pretty
I imagine there are
Even piquant clouds somewhere
Bouncing
Even though they’re still
Or moving slowly
To see them
Actually
Adding extra movement
To the elements
Because it’s probably happening
Out there
Up there
Down there
Anyway
And we take movement
All too seriously
As if to be still
Even to rest
Were tantamount to some kind of death
Before
The actual
And is that the antipathy
Toward rest
That it’s too close to resting
Mortally
Forever
I don’t know
It’s a pretty blue day outside
And I’ll think on all these things
And maybe you shall
Too
Blue is for rest
As well
And if it is
Or can be
Some kind of sabbath for you
When it’s time or
You decide
It’s time
Then my wish is for a day of blue
For you
C L Couch
Photo by Oliver Cole on Unsplash
All the Green Hours
It’s the witch hour
The day after Saint Pat’s
Though
The ministry of saints goes on
Brigid might be busy
Too
Being the saint
And also something of
Imbolc
The supernal spirit of the land
C L Couch
(for Saint Patrick’s Day late)
Photo by Greg Willson on Unsplash
The Body Practical
The human body
Is impractical
I mean
It’s working well enough
Until it isn’t
But what we really need
In addition to nominal
Health
Is an option for gills
That fold away
Until we need them
And we need
Wings
That keep
And when unfurled
Remind us as we fly
That God favors
Us
In making us
And we
At the very least
Owe the favor in return
While we are soaring
And at other
Times
Plunging
Also with delight
Into the depths
C L Couch
Photo by ibuki Tsubo on Unsplash
Long Earth
Thinking
About day and night
In the spring surprise of
Noting
Blue light persisting
Layered
And
Dissolving in to dark
And yet the longer time
As Earth considers turning
Back
Leaning to favor
Days of planting in the northern
Half
While the southern part
Has winter
A cycle of
Waking
Hibernation
Still for a billion years
Two billions or so
Until a final pressing
To go away
To land upon another world
With the surprise
Discovery
Of its own planetary cycles
And its seasons become
Our own
C L Couch
Photo by Aaron Burden on Unsplash
two fresh-baked works from ridiculous to personally at least sort-of maybe/maybe not sublime
Ides of March Eve
(or Pie with a Protractor)
3.14
Forget the year
Pi Day
Have some pie
A tasty metaphor
The circumference of
Which
Requires pi
To be determined
All our work in circles
Determined by a number
A function
That’s unsolvable
And yet
We build our arches
We have all our round things
The math might be frustrated
And sorry to
Computers
But our stone tools
Might have worked just fine
Without it
Without pi
Though it’s Pi Day
So let’s have a slice
That has a
Radius
With somehow
A part
Of the arc around
And maybe not get started
On the spheric calculation
Of
Each blueberry
The Morning Rush
Somedays
I wake
And try to make everything
Fit
Starting in my head
Into a style
If not a way
Simply
A few things to like
Some
Favorite flavors
A few items of clothing
Shoes
That fit easily
A car that might need work
No doubt from
Time
To time
But that gets around
From here to there and back
Again
While I may listen to my books
While on the road
A place to live
That’s quiet enough
Normal noise
Allowed
Even preferred
To gravestone silence
A thought
To work
That I can do
Beyond the blogging
Or maybe learn
A dollar
Two dollars
More
From the daily work
With any decent accomplishment
From the crafting and the
Posting
Though I don’t know
It seems skittish on many glassy surfaces
Inside
To consider
More exercise
Less weight
The national pastime that isn’t
Baseball
And with more study
And some interaction with
Like-
Minded people
Too
A church that I might stand
And might stand me
A life with God
That’s
Wel
Not palpable
For now
But authentically affirmed
And stretched out through the hours
Like
Taffy
Or an impossible balloon
Something with taste
(even savor)
Something to enjoy
Even remarkably
And
You know
It will not happen
There’s not enough allowance
Or belief
From the world
Not simply to help
But to permit
Because our life
Force
Is worked on by so many propositions
That become
Well
Impositions
What
To buy
How to vote
What
To believe as coded by
The pundits some of whom
Get elected
And
I’ll keep my faith
Of course
My discomfit with the world
Hoping for a purer
Uncultish Earth
Fitzgerald
This
Side of paradise
Sigh
Keep waking
And keep dreaming after
Waking
C L Couch
Photo by Kura Tregenza on Unsplash
rest in God
(the habit)
rest
in God
and what does that mean
to rest
and sleep a little more
a little more in depth
and
to have dreams
and to dream well
or to dream of true struggles
that by
daylight
we must live through
and
where’s the resting
maybe it’s to nearly nap
to lie down
or lie
back
think easy
find the divine though easy
almost
fall asleep to thank
and then go down
in safety
for a while
or maybe
it’s
an attitude
for decision-making
to be at peace
even
in this meeting
of a board
or with a family
one person
two
or twenty
and in the situation to have
still-thinking
thinking through in an allied way
not
alone
but with others
who might not all
in the room
yet still
still
we know are present
rest might mean embrace
an arm around
and how can God do that
though
the maker of embrace
without doubt
has a way
to make it
think
make it feel
make it hope
and make it love
(also the inventor
of
love)
so rest in God
and maybe in each other
rest in God
c l couch
photo by Squids Z on Unsplash
“Lotus”
Jiediaosha, Shenzhen, China
Prayer in Search of a Liturgist
And if we pray
Should we find a service
Or something
A box
As it were
In which to keep it
Give it
A liturgical home
A formal place
To live
Like a tabernacle or
A reliquary
Or may our prayer
Rise to the trees
And that’s
Enough
Not even to find a nest
But leave the tree’s tendrils
To aim
Even for soaring
Blue then white
Then to the black of space
Or
Un-Claudius like
Might it be helpful
For a prayer
To descend
Into the ground
To talk with
Seeds
Or to the ocean floor
For octopi-like things or
Expulsive vents
Or to go down
To a kind of nothingness
That you are Lord of
Too
Directionful
Directionless
Might prayer go where it needs to be
Where it un-needs to be
For your approval
And
Somehow
For application
Even without much more
Than itself
By itself
To consider
By us
By tree
By space
By Earth
By depth
By you
C L Couch
Photo by Bogomil Mihaylov on Unsplash
(Claudius in Hamlet declares “My words fly up, my thoughts remain below;/Words without thoughts never to heaven go.”)
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