New Season
I saw them
Being in the north
I saw them
First changing trees
Of autumn
Ferns
Can ferns be trees
But they were tall
Along the road
Telling me
With any passerby
That the new season
Is arriving
That as
Far as we’re concerned
Is here
C L Couch
Photo by Jr Korpa on Unsplash
(x = space)
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First Frost
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Last night
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It kills some things
Blankets others for the night
That is the final season
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Nature knows
What we try to control
Knowing that relenting is
The final lesson
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Ally ourselves
Withal
The nature of our lives
With the nature
Steadfast all around
Whose
Perturbations are
A part of all of it
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Rhythms
Cycles
Seasons
Storms and quakes
Floods and eruptions
Take too many
Should have their own
Rhythms
Cycles
Seasons
x
Try to dance
Like skaters
Swimmers
Climbers
They all fall
And rise again
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We could take care
Of all of us
This way
And let us grow
Into work as play
And play as work
(if we take in both parts)
Into retirement
What comes next after
Seed and bloom
Trunk and ever after
Life again
Life ever after
Goes the story
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Join with the movement
Of the seasons
Of the spheres
While together
Work it out
For better times
Reasoned
Lives today
Living ahead
The generations of the forest
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We are the forest
Too
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C L Couch
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(the briefest of bibliographies)
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The Word for World Is Forest
Ursula K. Le Guin
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Let all things now living a song of thanksgiving
To God the Creator triumphantly raise,
Who fashioned and made us, protected and stayed us,
Who guideth us on to the end of our days.
Katherine Davis
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Photo by Aaron Burden on Unsplash
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(x = space)
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Rising Seasons
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I wasn’t counting
But there are vehicles that do
And they and their movers are
Confident
It will be another
Weekend of rain
Eighth in a row
Tomorrow
Saturday
And Sunday
And certainly
The sky just outside now
Is gray
The leaves are wet upon the ground
This time of day
It’s fall
x
It’s fall
We should expect some damp
Maybe in all seasons
But this is chill
Descends with leaves
Dissembling
That is
Dissolving
That we’d rather drive through
In sunlight
Brilliant light
And also dry
To pass through
All the colors
Dryly
Reclining
Divinely resting
Into winter
x
Our weekend sights
Set
For somewhere in New England
x
We want what we can’t have
Enough rain
To build the tables up
Again
Dry days and dry roads
For touring
And school
And time off
Simultaneously satisfied
As well
x
Well
Why not want things
There are always ponchos
And we need the rain
And schools have holidays
Sometimes
Sometimes that work
x
Then
Elsewhere
South of here
Or west
Or in another region
Of America
All Americas
Or in Africa
Or Europe
Far-flung Asia
The Pacific Rim
Or an extremity
Of white bears
Or the other
Where the penguins
In the photographs
Line civilly
Awaiting who is next
To slide into
Salt water
x
For you
In any of these regions
It must be so different
So wonderful and different
Where you are
And now
x
And maybe you will share
The weather and the climate
With those of us
Not there
But here
x
Meaning in the MidAtlantic
The Northeast
The Midwest
The Northwest
The northern South
And wide parts
Of Canada as well
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Dry or damp
Let’s move
Adroitly on
All and any
All the pathways
That we have
Any of which
In any part
We hope
Might lead toward peace
x
As any of us might
Might wander
There and figure
In the sunshine
Or the rainshine
Depending on an attitude
A tolerance
Endurance
For the weather
Errant sunlight
Or the shade
For the interests they support
And for our own
About peacemaking
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C L Couch
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Photo by Daniel Frank on Unsplash
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(x = space)
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at church in October in the Midwest
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it all seems soft
maybe it’s all the sweaters
the quieter voices
fewer musicians
I am not complaining
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it’s an autumn form
perhaps
an instinctive response
to the response
we settle down
at least a little
like the leaves
upon the ground
we retune ourselves
for a new key
that is the winter sound
the keening through the trees
or soughs
over freezing water
as it takes its time to harden
to protect
‘til summer
everything that lives beneath
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we live protected by the Lord
beneath
above
anywhere we live
slow or fast
we breathe
we try
we pause
to worship
to ask more of our protector
and to say thanks
thank you
Lord
for slower seasons
autumn into winter
for an hour
here and there
to stop
to understand
who is Lord
(who is not)
and why
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c l couch
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photo by Lucas George Wendt on Unsplash
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(x = space)
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Today Is What
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What is today
After some mental work
It’s Tuesday
In the morning
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In the ninth month
Against which someone will say
So many days
‘Til Christmas
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But that’s a cultural thing
(and a commercial thing)
There are so many things
Before
We get there
x
Hallowe’en
Thanksgiving
(in both countries)
The yearly argument
Over which explorer exploited first
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And up here
(spring there)
It shall be fall
Leaves fall
In glory and defeat
Bare branches left behind
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Except for evergreens
That we shall value more and more
For symbolizing
Something like forever
Through all the seasons
And we hope
(burn bonfires
to the sky
to sky-gods)
Through the great changes
To forever
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C L Couch
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Photo by Adrien Olichon on Unsplash
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(x = space)
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haiku (3) after Hallowtide
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seasons ending in
new seasons beginning to
take hold then let go
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red leaves like children
bright and shiny always changing
into something else
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evergreen until
needles wither due to lack
of water and air
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C L Couch
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Red of Fall
Photo by Patrick Hendry on Unsplash
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(x = space)
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Art Show
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My goodness,
It’s brilliant outside
The green has changed to red
Lit by the angles of
The sun’s afternoon
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The larger trunks
Are tubes of transit
Moving our eyes
To the show
For which there’s no ticket
But the chilly air
(also a transiting device)
x
What is blue is blue
In the moment
Looking out and up
There is no impedance
From a cloud
Or interruption
Of a contrail
x
If there were
It would be a
Recipe’s ingredient:
Another element in
A complex design
x
It’s quiet through the window
There could be movement
But there isn’t any
Maybe to stay the moment
We may look longer
Let the silence
Stun the colors
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Have this
As a MidAtlantic gift
Before a winter’s
Bareness calls,
Giving notice to
Another kind
Of traveling exhibit
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C L Couch
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Photo by Steve Johnson on Unsplash
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(x = space)
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Quiet Victory
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There is yellow sunlight
On things this morning
Or is it gold
Or is it wishful thinking?
Church is going on
I’m trying to listen
The advantage and the irony
Of virtual
If I’m distracted
If I distract myself
It sticks
(the distraction)
x
(Saint) Paul is confessional
I think that’s good
I was thinking yesterday
Of (Saint) Peter
And his qualities to lead
That are pretty awful
He leads anyway
Jesus said so
Called him foundational
To a new movement,
A new church
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We are flawed
And at our best
We do not deny our flaws
Because that is honest
Because vanity
And ego
Won’t win anything
The battle
Or the day
Or the age
Or the world
Or the cosmos
Better to be the silent planet
As Lewis has created
Until we speak in power
Due to love
And lead the battle
And the world
And the age
In love
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C L Couch
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Solar Eclipse
Photo by Obed Hernández on Unsplash
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(x = space)
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Autumn Liturgy
(layperson’s)
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Just a little gray
Is creeping in;
It might turn into
Another color
Later on
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I may say
The point of dawn
Is nearing
Just after the moment
When night and day
Are shared first time
Then several
Hours later
x
The week has passed
Its sharing time
As well,
Being Thursday
Counting Sunday
As the first day
x
Maybe because
It’s autumn season
There is more
Preoccupation
Over what has passed
Than what is coming
x
Summer’s over
Growing’s done
Up here;
We count the harvest
And rely on it
To nourish us through
Winter
When dark is even more pronounced
In shorter daylight days
And longer nights
Even a solstice
For beseeching
Everything we lost
To return again
x
It’s all right
To think on loss
Not fun but necessary
So many things are shed,
Leaves off trees
And skin cells
Off our bodies
We lose things
Too many things, we think,
On the course of normalcy
x
And yet there is
The lesson of the harvest,
The gaining of so much
To see us through
x
The bears do this, of course:
We’ve had fat-week
Pageantry for them
Seeking winners among
The ursae
Who will be readier
For winter rest
Under their stars
Beneath the paler sun
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We need our things
And we should have them;
Things are lost,
And often we must let
Them go
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Gain and lose that is
The way of things
(we gain, we lose);
It has to be all right,
And it is
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C L Couch
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