What Do Angels Eat
I suppose
The first and best guess
Is nothing
They are heavenly
They seem to work
Unflagging
What need have they for
Food
What then
If a need
And for an energy source
For we may say they are
Relentless
Yet wonder if
Their energy is
Eternal
They are divine
(before some choose
another way)
Though they are not divinity
And so might
To fancy
Or daresay
Need fuel
I wonder if
They might draw energy
From sources in the
Cosmos
That they both know
And
Throughout
Time
And without
Time traverse
Say
With delight
They might soar through
The atmosphere
Of Venue
Fill their wings
Like sails
With wind
From gaseous origins
They might digest
Of
Slingshot movements
‘Round the sun
Or borrow from the
Energy
From orbits of the
Many moons
Of Saturn
Or of Jupiter
Borrowing
From Phobos
Deimos
Or the satellites
Of outer Neptune
Or
Dwarf planets
They might know the molecules
That fill what we consider
Empty space
They might eat dark matter
Or visit to the other ends
Of black holes
And so feast
From what is there
And so
Inside the center
Of each galaxy
So be replenished
From so many places
Or maybe a dimension’s slide
Into another
Provides nourishment of
Meals
So-called
Out of the multiverse
They eat
Without the worry
Of measure
Until our measures become
Or of other worlds become
Adept
To catch them
At their food
And so have proof
Though faith
(foolish
you might say)
Has long
And even
Now
Requires none
C L Couch
n. b.
Maybe they are feeding
From the leaves
In trees
(who says what size)
That fall through fall
Or reach up from the ground
In spring as
Seedings
Other plants
Flowers
And with an irony
What we need
And take
As crops
For food
(CLC)
Photo by Marek Piwnicki on Unsplash
"Energy," by the way claims William Blake, "is eternal delight."
Take Down the Cosmos from the Shelf
It might be morning
Sing us a new day, please, O Lord,
And ministrations of the angels
Slough off dead leaves
From trees
And unliving skin cells from our bodies
Renew everything
And let all organic detritus
Feed what is living now
Maybe it takes more than miracle
To renew the Earth
Let alone start new life on other worlds
We won’t know until we get to these
Or receive their emissaries
Maybe in meteors and microbes
For a start
Is it all expanding,
Then what happens next?
Who’s to say it doesn’t slingshot back
To start it all again?
Or that something won’t be surging
From the center, once there’s
Room
Like black holes we have found
In the middle of known galaxies,
Which might be feeding
Something that will birth among the stars
As stars
For introduction to new layers
And new ages
Bright leaves as pages
For stories we would have never
Otherwise conceived
There is some faith
And magic of belief
In all that’s startling
Ancient tome and
What is behind that
With a virtue and a prayer
We take it
Songs inside muscles
Here is creation
C L Couch
Photo by Maarten van den Heuvel on Unsplash
Spacetime
(as a single word, a thing)
I’ve been learning
About this
I’m amateurish
But it seems that it’s a gift
Of fluidity
Against intractability of
What we take for
Metronomic living
I could take a trip
Come back still alive
Barely older
When the cure has been invented
And those on Earth might
Wonder how we
Lived so long without it
Then recall
By my spaceship evidence
We didn’t
Light bends
Takes its time around galactic clusters
Because it’s needed elsewhere
Later than the normal pace
Allows
Or maybe it’s a cosmic celebration
Of forlorn parts
That, folded,
May come back
You see, it’s faster and it’s slower
More wonders to be added
More paper in the capsule
More pencils by the cosmonauts
Who already learned
To write upside-down
Fear not
Schools will expand
Along with all the options
Requiring machines
To be stretched into curves
Reshaped into marvels
Potters know the way
Each moment will be new
A little chaos is good for everyone
And twisted into tapestry
So that everything
The cosmos and our lives
Is also home
C L Couch
Photo by Genessa Panainte on Unsplash
Fairy Dust
I believe
S is for Science
Science is skill
Practice and progress
Discipline, consistent
Method and trial
So is poetry-making
Poeia in ancient Greek
(The process of
Making)
Both are spiritual acts
Dealing with creation
And miracle
Though scientists and
Poem-makers might
Not see the fabulous
Beyond amazing
Accomplishments of
People
In effect, the miracle
Being us
Well, so be it
I see the soul, and
That’s my science
Global, adhesive
Respect will keep our
World together
And so I will look
Forward to your way
And we may measure
And skillfully remake
The cosmos together

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L is for Lyric
Will you sing with me?
If I start,
If you start,
Shall we sing together?
The earth spins off harmony,
A jubilance of sparks—
Fireworks
In the mind
Our words become song
And, while orbiting,
An invitation:
Into our creating cups,
Ambrosia-better,
Liquid inspiration
Not for drinking but for
Utterance,
Music becoming
Current in the cosmos

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