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It Happens to Be Now

It Happens to Be Now

 

It isn’t often to my eyes when

The light is pink outside

Not with drama or ensemble

But an even tone, the sky all its own

And, yes, it’s daybreak

I turned hot water on, and at first there was

Not steam but a film across my vision,

Vague and even

This is the start of an unspecial day

It’s 23 November

Day after JFK, C. S. Lewis, Aldous Huxley

(many more we cannot name)

 

Nothing new but its own time

Prepossessing seconds to release

Like dropping jewels from a story-pirate’s chest

Upon the Earth in outside, mortal time

Profundity in kind

Wisdom at the ready for, well,

Yes, anyone

 

C L Couch

 

 

Photo by Max Ostrozhinskiy on Unsplash

 

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Not a Judgment Call

Not a Judgment Call

 

I think you should have

A wonderful day

You deserve it

You’ve been working hard

And if you haven’t,

Well, that takes some skill

In a world where

Busyness has become the virtue

This is not about perfection

No one can have that

This side of things

It’s about a treasure you

Don’t have to dig for

A reward for living through

What has gone before

What is happening now

It’s a reward for living

Believe me, have earned it

 

This is not a moral judgment

Not my purview,

Thank goodness

Not today

Not now

 

If you’re good, then that is

A treasure, too

If you’re so-so, then there’s a long

Bench for all of us to sit on

Join us

If you’re bad

I mean as a quality

(you’re that committed)

Then something will find you

I won’t have to

And you can have this day as well

No charge

 

No charge?

Well, that’s not right

It’s the cost of what went on

Before

And a little something to leave

For the living, after

Even for tomorrow, while

We’re all here

And while you’re here

I think you should have

A wonderful day

 

C L Couch

 

 

Photo by Artem Kniaz on Unsplash

Kopernyka Street, L’viv, Ukraine

I took this photo on Lviv street (Ukraine) last summer. Such scene appears in this city every year above road, that is why it was a little bit hard to take this photo, cause I must lay down on road, but it was busy by cars, so I waited until street will be free.

 

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Last of the Dog-on-Porch Poems

(3)

 

 

A Lesson from the Story

 

In The Horse and His Boy

A young person is punished

In the way she caused

The wounding of another

Aslan is very present there

In Narnia

Potent and immediate

The good thing is that

Judgment’s taken care of

Neither need worry over it again

 

A moment’s wrong

Another’s retribution

And we are clean with God

Again

Not bad, pre-Apocalypse

Before the book is opened

One last time

For good

 

 

A Grown-Up Narrative

 

Some adults with ADHD

Say they don’t like the medication

I understand

They feel the edge has been

Worn down

Lacking what is needed

Sharp awareness to get through

Each day

I understand

And, seriouser still,

The feeling that oneself has

Been worn down, too

Filed in every way

 

I have a medication that

Calms me down

Cools me

I’m thankful for it

Am I less of me?

I think parts of me that haven’t

Got to surface very much

Now have a chance for rising

And for air

 

Am I less of me?

If I am, is that so bad?

The peacefulness, it might

Be worth it

For the fuzzying of awareness

(I know what’s around me)

The challenge of the

Deeps of spirit I must swim against

I feel for those like me

Like themselves

Who favor the back stroke or the

Breast stroke

When one should not have to be

In the pool

I know it’s more than metaphor

Metaphor’s a pointer

Everything gets real

After that

 

 

Not Tonight, I Have a Headache

 

I’m sorry

I never got it right, you know

I must have a life

To offer it

I must have built something

And I didn’t

Praise and all impressiveness

To those who have

Who found enough for themselves

And to share

That is the way

That is the way of life

It secures the present and

Leans into the future

 

 

C L Couch

 

 

Image by creisi from Pixabay

ecumenical?

 

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All Things Bright

All Things Bright

 

To be prosaic about it, today is

the definition of a summer

day.

It’s hot (eighties), and it’s

dry.

The sky is pale blue, and scattered clouds

(cumulo-cirrus?) are flying high;

there is a faint breeze.

 

Just right for children

to be outside

playing.

Riding bikes, hanging out with friends

at the Soldiers and Sailors

Park.

Walking to the community pool

with sponsors,

swimming in the pool,

taking a breath

between adventures.

 

C L Couch

 

 

George Hodan

https://www.publicdomainpictures.net/en/view-image.php?image=190361&picture=sunshine-background

 

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Please Wait

Please Wait

 

Wait

I have something for you

It’s today

 

I don’t know if you need it

But please take it, anyway

No cost

All you have to do

Is wake a little

In barely an existential way

 

I don’t mean to pry or push

I didn’t bring the dawn

I’m only asking

For a little time

 

Go outside

Sponge up everything you can

You don’t have to return

But I’ll wait

In case

You do

 

It’s fine, I have a book to read

And I can put my life on hold a little

Because the time is worth it for

Discovery of meaning

And if you’ll have it

Maybe you’ll tell me

Maybe not

This is yours

All this is yours

It’s all for you

 

Redemption in small moments

Sometimes it’s the best

We get to have

An affirmation of a gift

From me to you

 

On behalf of

One who calls down the day

Each time

Until the last

When small becomes gargantuan

Each thing matters more

For being minor

 

Yes, I’m not a caller

Not a surrogate

Simply who gets to say, now and then

Yes, it’s all for you

 

C L Couch

 

 

Photo by Yoshua Giri on Unsplash

 

1

Giveth

Giveth

 

I’d rather write about how

The gift of God is

Given on this day in the first

Moment

It is the day itself and more

Opportunities in time

In a culture of newness

So that good things might grow

I know we think of cultures

(the kind in Petri dishes)

For disease

But we might also harvest and

Turn (as on a potter’s wheel)

Cures,

Once everything is studied

And we prudently co-try

Many things

 

C L Couch

 

 

Image by PDPics from Pixabay

 

3

Solacing

Solacing

 

I’m tired, but it’s the kind

Of tired that comes from sleeping for

A while,

Waking up and wondering what time it is

The clouds and unspring-cool help

This along

But it’s not unpleasant disorientation

I know I’ll rise

And this day will happen

 

Coffee and toast,

The closest thing to routine

It seems allowed

A normal day, what’s that?

I couldn’t tell you

I don’t fear boredom but

I fear being dull

Like the poor boy Jack

 

Life should have sharp edges not

For cutting but for

Carving toward brilliance

As if whittling wood could

Somehow make a diamond

 

Nature says hello

Me, too

I hope we both cooperate

I’d like you to have this day as well

 

C L Couch

 

 

(smoky diamond, public domain)

 

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I Am Born Each Day

I Am Born Each Day

(so are you)

 

I don’t know what to write about

Today

Do you?

If so, please tell me

Write me

Hah!

 

Sometimes I get confused when I awake

If it took a while, the sleep world

To enter,

Then I’ll struggle upon leaving

That happened this morning

Where I was is where I thought I am

 

When making worlds, there is clothing

To consider

What kind of food, what kind of time

To have in there

Today, morning light

The real thing

Broke in

Overtaking everything

Painting the dream away

I faced a blank wall

I guess I’ll have to use my own materials

To make a work of it

It’s bright outside

There is good help available

I simply have to turn, take up a brush to try

 

C L Couch

 

 

Photo by Markus Spiske on Unsplash

 

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Hump Day

Hump Day

(be nice)

 

One term

Fall term, I think

There was a student

Amanda

Who came into class each Wednesday

Declaring it was hump day,

Which was a good thing for her

(declaring it, and it being Wednesday)

 

In a fifteen-week semester, most of

Another week was done

I imagine in all our versions of work weeks,

We can relate

 

Amanda, then, would help us understand

Wednesday to be both an arch day

And a day between

(good work, Amanda)

On either side the keystone lay

Half the week

Even one weekend day on either side

If we accede, traditionally,

Sunday as the first day

 

We learn that there is symmetry

We learn that there is none

And there is virtue,

Even wider goodness

In each way

 

But here’s something cleanly halved

With a marker in its place

Unevenness is fine

But in the middle of each week

We may enjoy appreciable halves

In the count of days

 

I write Thursday, by the way, which means

The second half of the week is

Sliding into weekend

 

C L Couch

 

 

By Wilson44691 – Own work, CC BY-SA 3.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=15414176

Dromedaries in the Negev

 

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