Black Hours
Black hours
Don’t have to mean
A dark night for the soul
Or for
Another part of
Self
An exclusive mediation
That must go
Sadly
Matched exhaustion
With frustration
Due to
Existential form
For
Sometimes
When I was done
With day
And daytime matters
Care for mother
And
Father-negotiation
With
House and home such-like
And also work outside
Of these
I could claim some
Time
And I was tired
I had some time
I took some time
And I was
Tired
Yet so many things
Were sunlit
Surface things were quiet
So
I could
Own
An hour or so
To sit and think
Like Pooh
Beside the jar
Or like the Satchel cat
That sits and thinks or sometimes
Only sits
C L Couch
Photo by Marten Newhall on Unsplash
The classic Dark Night of the Soul is a poem and also commentary by Saint John of the Cross.
Gradient Light
It’s late
In that
The mid-autumn sun
Sets
Much earlier
Than summer’s
I rose late
Because there was
Strange peace
In the house
Perhaps
Perhaps
And inside
Me
While it is green and blue
Still
Lit by yellow
Yet I know
The coming darkness
That hints already
Shall
Arrive
It will be night
And with some stars
Perhaps
Or that bright
Waning moon
We’ve had
These past nights
A gift
Of supernal light
From
Evening
Crafters
And a surprise
For being
Large
In the sky
The
Brightness of the Lord
Even
In waning
C L Couch
Photo by Charles Postiaux on Unsplash
(x = space)
x
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Eve X
x
I cannot help
But love the evening
Maybe you feel the same
And in the quiet night
A miracle
And it can’t have been quiet
With the mother
And the father
And the animals
And the outside
Night noises
And yet the heart is quiet
Generally
When
There is the birth
To contemplate
In the dark
And after
Maybe
An extraordinary light
That might be candlelight
Or dawn
Or an inside
Sunrise
x
And it could happen
In an hour of
Any Christmas Eve
With apologies to mothers
And to fathers
And to animals
The wilderness
x
But we might need
Silent consideration
Of it all
And then to have a new day
In more silence
Or the noise
Of a wonderful
However illuminated
Day
x
Darkness
And light
Darknesses
And lights
We might need both
To understand
How a birth leads
To eternal life
Because it may
It does
x
C L Couch
x
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Photo by Remy Gieling on Unsplash
Believer holding candle at evening church ceremony in Paris.
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(x = space)
x
x
We Didn’t Know Who You Was
(Christmas Eve)
x
Let’s not slice it to death
This time
Let’s simply have observances
Let all the contradictions go
We know there’s folklore involved,
Which should fascinate
x
There was such darkness
At hand
Of one kind or another
Of the past, of
The present
Lack of awareness
Of the import of events;
Only to the players
Did things matter,
They in acts
No one to put it all together until Luke
And a little bit in Matthew and in John
x
Prophets old and new
We have to say
Knew and know some measure
Of the meaning
Of it all
They are extracted
And we read them, too
x
Such dulled and slow senses
Sometimes history goes that way
Sometimes it’s spiritual
The people walked in darkness
There might be other forces, too,
To keep us from the light
x
But it is there
The birth is there
Incarnation as a doctrine
Thought some of it at least
Might have been as any birth
A baby in the world
This one in a cave
And that’s unusual
And all around
The mystery
The strangeness
There was adventure in the sky
And from some people
Who in an iron empire
Chose to dedicate another lord,
Another life to follow
x
The child is God
But who knew that?
Mary and Joseph
Angels
And the magi knew something
While the shepherds were told something
As good news
This is the messiah!
Who really understood?
How could a baby save the world
Who is not Caesar
With family, tutors, strategists
Sheltered behind stone walls,
Armies out front
That keep the world
For them?
x
Well, other parts conspired
Into a birth, a life
That through faith
And later patchwork
Yielded doctrine
And a way
The people of the way
x
As on that night
(let’s call it a night)
There would be amazement
There would be awful things as well
But wonder now
And wonder later on
And with us, still
x
Praise God, for God is good
God is love
God is a spirit
Who wonders now
And offers light inside the darkness,
The kind of darkness that is not
Romantic but it
Stultifies and kills
x
Believe the child
Humbly, take the child in
To dwell with you
Maybe like a foundling, at the start,
Then as a teacher
And a savior
And a temple of salvation
In the city of God
(new heaven)
And on God’s free land
(new Earth)
Forever
x
Sweet, little Jesus child,
They made you be born in a manger;
Sweet, little holy child,
We didn’t know who you was.
x
Didn’t know you’d come to save us, Lord,
To take our sins away:
Our eyes was blind, we could not see;
We didn’t know who you was.
x
We didn’t know who you was
Maybe we should have
Maybe we can, now,
And into new ages
Love revealed
Prophecy fulfilled
The child grows up
We grow up
x
And for this night we way
Welcome to the world, child,
And everything that starts
Now
x
C L Couch
x
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could be a choral or a choir reading
x
“Sweet, Little Jesus Child” is a song of African American origin. The precise source is unknown, and there are variants and variations.
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This is the third in a creative, liturgical series for Advent and Christmas. The other two parts are the last two days’ posts. I think I’ll work on something else now.
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Photo by Agung Raharja on Unsplash
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I’ve been having trouble with WordPress. I can’t leave comments on your pages. I get an “error” block that tells me to go back and when I do I still get the “error” block. I don’t know if anyone has experienced this. Maybe the problem is with my computer. Frustrating!
This won’t fix the problem and doesn’t really address it; but if want to get in touch with me (especially while I’m not able to reach you via the blog), you may use my e-mail address, clcouch17055@gmail.com.
CLC
x
x
(x = space)
x
x
In Darkness
x
A child is born
Into this?
How cruel
Such cruelty
If God should call this down
A child of God
(a child?)
Then why not to cushions
In a palace
For a start?
Why not with special parents
In a prominent family?
Why not with
Advisors and with teachers
Frankly, generals
Standing,
Kneeling
By?
Why not with a well-known name
Conveying might
Mixed with celebrity?
x
Bethlehem?
There are two such places
You are inviting debate
And neither is a capital
An important place
For births
Unless by the mother stopped
By happenstance
On the way to Jerusalem
Or Rome
Somewhere we can argue is
The center of the world
Where we can triumph
(two drum beats)
Where are the triumphs?
x
Where are the angels
(bells)
Well, there are
The angels
We are frightened
They say
Don’t be afraid
(we are afraid)
Tidings,
Good news?
To our cynic selves we know
There is never good news
x
And who are the shepherds?
Smelly men
Who should be outside town
Yet they pass us by
With purpose
What?
Where?
x
Bethlehem, again
And we people of the world
Maybe we should follow
x
Or, you know,
We could wait for the news
When it’s official
The sky is dark again
With normal night
We have two years
And more,
Should something else
Happen
(two drum beats, bells)
x
C L Couch
x
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A companion piece to yesterday’s. Another one tomorrow—there you will have a trilogy of liturgy for Advent and Christmas Eve. Or for some other reason. Or for none. Note this verse has sound effects. They can be left out, I’m sure.
CLC
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Photo by Lasse Møller on Unsplash
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The People Walked
x
God announces
God’s own birth
An absurdity of prophecy
Things bang together
Light good
Dark bad
(for now
for often dark is good)
People in darkness
Who understands?
God is coming
But God is here
God has been here
From the start
Before the start
God was
And is
And shall be
And now, what,
A child?
A virgin birth,
Come on
x
A working together
Of generations,
Places
So that everything
Comes together
Complements
Too much
It is too much
You try the words too much
The documents are old
And sacrosanct
We keep them in a temple
Leave them be
What we believe
Is in the temple
Leave it be
We sacrifice flora and fauna
We dedicate
Our children
We don’t need another child
Or of such scandal
Leave us be
x
We are specific
We are everyone
(analogous)
We have freedom
In measure
We hate the other measure
But taxes
And armies
Are the world
It could be worse
It has been worse
We plot
Inside the darkness
In our own planning time
As we say,
Leave us be
x
So God is coming
And it’s taken centuries
Ages, if we count
From the beginning
And before
The God who answered nothing
With creation
And now a child
Without instruction
For our training
As a Caesar
(any Caesar)
This is too much
We have our own children
And for Caesar
Charges and complaints
From Spain and France
Morocco, Egypt
To Iraq and Israel
Rumors in Russia, India, and
China
All the world
x
Everywhere
And everywhere we know
Is burden
Don’t weigh us down with more
Words and promises
And obligations
Expectations
You expect us to believe?
Unlikely
x
C L Couch
x
x
I don’t know how I got to thinking about Christmas while summer is hot on. Maybe it’s wishful thinking, though I like the seasons as they happen. Maybe I need a charge of faith, like a CO2 cartridge making soda pop in the soda fountain. Maybe I need some soda pop. Maybe I’m preparing what might seem way ahead for liturgies in Advent (the good news and the difficult). Or maybe a little future holiday (of any number of holidays) is okay for the present, that is, right now.
x
Photo by Alistair MacRobert on Unsplash
x
When Day and Night Knew Each Other Well
We had a solstice over the weekend
And a new moon
It was easier
To live in the dark
A hundred years ago
And a hundred more
Maybe a hundred more
Not to equate darkness with ignorance,
Not at all
Imagine how the stars must
Have been,
For certainly they’ve changed
How secret was a secret
When extinguishing a candle
Could blow out the gathering
Make unreadable
An agenda
To send us home, instead
The greater darkness
Wasn’t bad or good
It was
It was the setting
And the means
Maybe we paid more attention then
Our night-vision was better
When ambience was lightless
In the distance
Or up front
It might have been generally possible
Not to see the hand before the face
And not to be afraid of that
Maybe darkness
Was a friend
To the criminal
And carpenter, alike
The darkness said
Slow down
Don’t move without
Knowing where you’re going
It was a signal
For the rest
For rest
(yes, maybe in a forest)
Maybe for rehabilitation:
Come the new day
You will be needed with
New muscles
And a readiness
In attitude
To contribute to
An ever-new, new world
C L Couch
Dark Heart
Light, bring me light!
It must be nice to call for it
A monarch
Then expect it
If I want light, I’ll have to get it
Not to complain
I have matches that strike on anything
And it’s one payment of my bills
That’s current
And now we have the bulbs
That light and last
That are expensive
That is a promise of investment in
Illumination
As for what’s inside, I’m unsure what to say
We say or see each new idea
As a light
A symbol in a balloon
A cartoon moment without words
Light to curse the darkness
Say the Christophers
Because darkness isn’t always bad
We call them the Dark Ages
We called it the dark continent
Though that was agenda
And racism
The agenda of racism
Belief to form a profit
Over people
Maybe we do better with the heart of darkness
Maybe not
But that is the end of light at the horizon
The entrance of the Congo
And the human being
And who is the main character
If not the continent itself
That without restraint
(another sort of character)
Ruins each of us—
And whose restraint
C L Couch
Heart of Darkness, Joseph Conrad, 1899 serially in Blackwood’s Magazine, published (whole) with other stories in 1902
The mission of The Christophers is to encourage people of all ages, and from all walks of life, to use their God-given talents to make a positive difference in the world. The mission is best expressed in The Christophers’ motto: “It’s better to light one candle than to curse the darkness.”
Photo by Nathan John on Unsplash
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