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creation

Not a Game Day

(x = space)

x

x

Not a Game Day

(maybe another day)

x

We’ve had dark days

(two days’ packed clouds

and rain)

And that’s all right

We don’t soothsay

The weather, anymore

Storms are a nuisance

Comets intriguing

Too many withering days

Does not mean

God is judging us, though

God might have another

Idea, not about

Judging us through

Weather (God might be

glad we’ve outgrown that)

But keeping count

Regardless over

How we’re doing with

Created places

x

There could be a book

Maybe a computer bank

Maybe angels tasked with

Keeping score

Except there are too many

Teams to count

And Earth and each day

Is not a game

(sorry)

Most of the time

x

C L Couch

x

x

Photo by Zhu Hongzhi on Unsplash

x

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The Originals

The Originals

 

We create and re-create

We must do this,

I think

The way animals return

To reproduce

It’s close work and

Intimate

Actions in a studio

Or on the line

What might tragedy encourage

Into making

Or a comedy?

I’m not saying it’s a law

It’s not

Sometimes a commission

Even patronage

Sometimes, though, merely

A happy accident,

As is said but really happens

 

Call it invention

Or an invention

Making and remaking

What is made a complement

And compliment

To a living and a breathing

Sometimes fierce, sometimes

Fanciful

Planet Earth

 

With places in the cosmos

When we’re ready

Though we’ll probably

Leave too soon

To find the faces

That have been

Quietly challenging

Wizening with age

Maybe waiting

For the far more mortal

Upstart young

To launch

To find our way to you

 

C L Couch

 

 

Photo by Jenna S on Unsplash

“Painting the Summer”

 

11

Born Ready

Born Ready

 

There are two

Quite often

And some more

We work in company

Best of all,

It seems

I guess we’re made that way

Porous, with no corners

But with openings

Ready in the making

To receive

Atomic intentions

Molecules that move

From skin to skin

One by one

We each remain intact

But space and matter have

Determined

All the places on

Each one of us that

Are ready to receive

Like sponge to sponge

Life like water

Fuller for the moving

And arriving

Tidal pools that live

Along the shore

Of every cosmic

And each metaphoric

Ocean

 

C L Couch

 

 

Photo by Marcelo Rivas on Unsplash

Tide pools, La Jolla, California, USA

 

9

Take Down the Cosmos from the Shelf

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

 

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Gifting

Gifting

 

I have words on deck

Nervous words, maybe

Never having been at bat before

It’s a spring day, looks to be warm

And humid

Cloudy for the outfield

We play on grass, of course

 

But I don’t know

I’d like to ask for something new

That would be a prayer

Not in desperation

Not as in I haven’t got a prayer

(what does that mean, anyway—

who came up with that?)

But a petition with some savor

Since it’s offered on the plate

The paten

Both with words

 

Might I add something new

To the drafts of yesterday,

Yesteryear?

What I’m wondering on this hazy

Day is about the gift

Of time, of weather, gravity

The air I breathe, the water I hope

To drink

What food I’ll have

And maybe something valid or

Viable to do

All these things,

A gift for me?

Why?

I am no worthier, and I think that’s the point

Pulled out of eternity and time

There are things for me

Because there are things for you

The largesse of the cosmos is

For all of us

It has to be

Not to own but certainly to use

Not to twist and tear into submission

We know that nature will not stand for that

There will be repercussion

That will

Ruin the unrighteous

And take all of us along as well

 

A gift that is judicious

A gift that is not kept

More gifts will come tomorrow

If we do our part receiving

The universe is ready

 

C L Couch

 

 

NASA, ESA, and the Hubble Heritage Team (STScI/AURA) – http://hubblesite.org/image/3471/news_release/2015-01, Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=38165284

NASA’s Hubble Space Telescope has revisited the famous Pillars of Creation, originally photographed in 1995, revealing a sharper and wider view of the structures in this visible-light image. Astronomers combined several Hubble exposures to assemble the wider view. The towering pillars are about 5 light-years tall.

 

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God Loves Ewe

There are harsher things to write about today.  Maybe tomorrow.

As I was working, the song came to mind “He’s Got the Whole World in His Hands.”  I imagine the song will be with me for a while.

 

 

God Loves Ewe

 

God loves the lamb, the ram, the llama, and alpaca

All the cats and dogs

Chickens, too

The duck-billed platypus (is there another kind of platypus?)

Angel Falls

And the Panama Canal

New York City, Moscow, Beijing

Alice Springs, Nazca, Tecate, and Palikir on the island of Pohnpei

Midway Island

Mechanicsburg, Pennsylvania

 

God loved the dinosaurs

And maybe somewhere loves them still

God loves everyone who’s come before

Who will arrive today

And go home tomorrow

 

God loves the ewe

And God loves you

 

C L Couch

 

 

Photo by Om Prakash Sethia on Unsplash

Bhubaneswar, India

“Her life lines.”

 

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Naming Things

Naming Things

 

A first prerogative in the garden

That’s a cow and that’s a dog

That’s an Edsel, that the World Wide Web

And if we don’t like them

We can blame the editors,

Translators

There are nicknames, too

Blame-free alternative

 

Did God name day or night?

Who said that they’re good?

Whose naming,

Whose words?

 

Knowing origins

A story fills the void

Words is what we got

We set them on a stool

Play them with or without

Syncopation

The jazz of

Genesis

God’s making, our telling

Listen to the teller

Hear the names

Respect the language

Of the singer

 

No one knows the maker’s words

What we have

We perform in parts

Rehearsing for Parousia

Last words to name

New heaven and new Earth

 

C L Couch

 

 

Photo by Rafki Altoberi on Unsplash

 

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Chanton

Chanton

(Notre Dame)

 

https://twitter.com/i/status/1117888314323791874

 

Cathedrals built to music over time

So relate certain Victorians

Now music while the cathedral’s coming down

Illumination

Challenging the fire

 

A story goes that Camelot arose

To Merlin’s music

There’s Aslan singing so that

Narnia can come to life

And did not the utterance of Christ

Make all worlds

 

They watch and listen to

The fire

There is heat to feel

Ash to smell

And the taste of ruination

 

There is more as music

Cups the feeling of the tears

And gives, unbidden, thought to soul

Vive la France

Vive l’homme

 

C L Couch

 

 

(c.f. first part of Hebrews 3, Christian New Testament)

 

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Five, Sixty-Two, and More

Five, Sixty-Two, and More

 

We are getting on

I want God to be simple

But the cosmos is made with

Such small things

Nuclei, electrons

Unless we have it wrong

And atoms are huge

But we don’t know the context

We’ve barely started searching out

The story of the universe

We see, we listen

We know the sounds of space

So far

Maybe when we know the taste

And touch more than moon rocks

(which I did not at the museum,

thank you very much)

Maybe when know the scent of galaxies

We’ll understand something of

The process of creation

The scale of something like

The hand of God

The eye, the nose, the ear

The tongue

Everything that gave us

Anything

And then how to understand it

 

In the morning of discovery, of greeting

Face to face

And sense to sense

The one who saw, who heard, who smelled, who

Tasted, and who touched us first

 

C L Couch

 

 

Lubo Kristek: Monument to the Five Senses, 1991, metal sculpture, 450 cm, collection of the Neues Stadtmuseum, Landsberg am Lech

By Info-kultur – Own work, CC BY-SA 3.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=20245863

 

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