the good season that lasts
the week after
time of discipleship
like being free of Pharaoh
free
now
of similar devils
new obligations based
on old beliefs
and
now
regeneration
not an easy life
in the spirit
old and new temptations
to parry
disillusionment as
after
last Friday
until the vigil moment
Sunday
which is maybe how sometimes
faith
appears
fast like a bird
settling like
rain
a life re-breathed
a new season that in temperate climes
speaks to changing colors
and
thermometer degrees
and while these quarters will continue
the life
in the spirit
we know
now
shall not have an end
as long as we’re inclined
and others
all of us go on
face the choice
to belong
adhere
and have renewed breath
in the new time
in the gathering that is church
only people
by
its Greek definition
and goodness the soft
yoke
the easy
weighted burden
which faith allows
maybe
hopes near all traditions
c l couch
first full week of the Easter season
photo by Julia Elliot on Unsplash
abduction
(a draft about salvation)
we were taken away
from Eden
with Edenic living
whose fault
we don’t know
maybe everyone’s
maybe not ours
so much
because we were not there
except in some spirit
time and space
possibility
now we are held captive
and there should be
a ransom
since kidnapping goes that way
some amount
some prize
according to abductors
who have caged us in deceit
to call it living
so who must pay
to whom
and how much
the price might be forever
be everything
anyone could have
and pay the price
the price paid
which was a final deception
a trip
in which the rescuer
now gone would leave the rescued
untenable
not fit for anything but fire
the infernal fire
which is to say fire upon fire to
the glee
of the one who thought
who planned
who entwined
and who
in fact
led the absconding or ourselves
and now in victory
having arranged the killing
of the only one to save
until
this moment
this moment when it
turned out
there was a reason for the death
and it was
to guarantee a life
one life
all
lives
together have the chance
now
to be saved
and what weeps and what
gnashes its teeth but a
planner
the abductor
who thought that killing it should mean the end
and it should now
but doesn’t
in that we may choose
faith in our own supernal return
the one returned
who offers the returning
to anyone
and as plus with anyone
becomes
an all
a following
angels and us
perhaps
in faith then
by grace
we return and then
even better yet move forward
to the gates of Eden now
angel-unassigned
shall become a new Eden and how about
gateway to new Earth
by new heaven
c l couch
photo by Peter Thomas on Unsplash
beginnings
church seasons
Sunday after
Easter
it will be Easter now
Easter season
for a while
up to Pentecost
the appearance of the Holy Spirit
in
fire and languages
and often thought of
as
a birthdate
for the church
from
then on
there were martyrs
also miracles
and formations
and also
debates
fighting over Antioch
or Jerusalem
and whether or not
to let the Gentiles
in
there would be conversions
teaching
sometimes with warnings
and final prophecies
to warn us
yes
more so
to encourage us
and love us with
hope
there is discipline
and code
baptisms
dedications
confirmation
the faith
begins
for good or ill
for good and ill
the Christian church
belief is risk
it always
has
a countercultural
element
choose
to be comfortable
to wear a mask
to believe
and act
and take a chance
c l couch
originally, the poem was not in triplets; but as I looked at what was the last stanza (six lines), I realized that it could and maybe should be made two stanzas of three lines each; then I went back (up) to revise the rest accordingly; I had one line at the top, remaining; I added in what was the title and subtitle to make the first stanza of three lines, then added a new title; sometimes the form comes first; this time it was more or less last
photo by Greg Rosenke on Unsplash
Dust Bunnies after Easter
Breathe in green
Even under gray
A rainy day
Around here
After Easter
Which doesn’t change a thing
Doctrinally
And
Anyway
I rather like the gray
That let dust bunnies
Out
To play
Their chocolate cousins
Reigning free
The day before
Now chomped away so that
The versions made
Of crumbs and such
May have
Today
To play
And should the sun
Come out
Well
That’s all right
Dust bunnies will be tired
And will be ready
For the time
To nap
Inside cool shadows
(you know where they are)
Under
Things
C L Couch
(thoughts on this day after Easter being a rainy day, no fooling)
Photo by lilartsy on Unsplash
some poems for Easter, if you will
Easter where It’s Easy
I put things
In small baskets
Left them at
The neighbor’s doors
Came back upstairs
Let oxygen return
To my limbs
(heart disease
not being
good
for nimbleness)
There
That’s Easter done
In some months
No doubt
The Great Pumpkin
Shall return
Oh
Yeah
There’s the part
Where Christ arose
From the grave
Defeating death
Securing life
For everyone
Believing
There’s that
For Easter
Too
Beyond suburbanites
Like me
You know
I could have left things
Only for
The neighbors
Whom I like
Or those
I know at all
But then
I’m uncertain how
That might undermine
The meaning
In a holiday
And then
Christ
Well
That was for everyone
And maybe the whole Earth
And other parts
Unknown
(to us)
I think without
Favorites
Or an agnostic tally
So by comparison
And not so much
Considering
Degree
It might be that
My bits of color and
Artificial grass
Upon which is chocolate
And some crayons
Might be
For everyone
I do not know
As well
And like
The little angel
A small and silly gift
Unto
The Lord
Who lives
So we might live
This Easter
And
Always
Abashed
Evangelism
And how’s that
For perspective
But
I come around
At last
And now quiet
For blue consideration
Of the coffeemaker
And
An hour for
A strange-thinking
Fool
Day One
(for Easter)
And who shall
Shoot whom today
Where shall
A missile
Go
Who shall be dispossessed
Of home
And anything
Of safety
While working toward that
Anyway
For family
The causes should be
Bad enough
Old age
Or diseases
Even
Accidents
That happen
But the cruelty
Of human will
At play
Rendering
And rending
Oh
So much
Of us
And Earth
As if we needed reasons
For our mourning
And Christ comes down
From the cross
To weep with us
To say
Please
I have done this for you
Can you not live
Can you not like life
Enough
To act
So much more
Than bullets
Blades
And missiles
His arms out wide
Again
Over a scorched
And parching Earth
Where the graves
Know prosperity
And some
Human
Secret
Coffers
He brings them down
To embrace again
With all
The Marys there
To help
And the
Beloved
Of disciples
The art of love
Nestled now
In quiet museums
But take it outside
Please
Is his
Command
Though it sound like pleas
Spoken through blood
Toward a forsaking
God
Who never left
Who left a story
And now leaves the truth
In resurrection
For
We could all do better
We could all
Do life
And more
Would come from heaven
Toward the end
Though without guarantee
In worldly terms
(so much of Spirit
and of doctrine
frankly
invisible)
To do this
Anyway
Unwarranted
Without a warranty
Nothing like safety
Like a trophy
On a shelf
The shelf come down
Eventually
Within the ambition of
Another generation
Which means
Our reasons might
Be unseen
Too
To do them
Anyway
Do life
Do love
There
I should be at church
But I slept in
Which is itself
A kind of miracle
At least
A gift
Besides
I don’t know a church
And my hair’s too short
And I’m still
Too tired
My coffee’s warm
I need some
More
The blue light calls
As if I were
At K-Mart
There
My distractions call
And I know it’s Easter
Sunday
And that’s something
Not enough
For God
I guess
And any
Who might miss me
There
Though by my experience
There
It might seem that absence
For discretion
Rather than outright scorn
Regrets all around
Might be
Valor’s better
Way
Which is to say
That I don’t like it there
So much
They don’t like
Me
And so it’s safer here
With blue light
And more coffee
And I could
Turn on something
For a church
On Easter morn
First Family
And what happened
By that morning
When the Marys
John
Arrived
By then
There had been moments
First and only
When the Earth’s guards fell away
The stone fell
From its post
And
Inside
Well
Inside
Where we had thought
Had desert rot might happen
And instead
The area inside
Must have broke apart
For miracle
And cleanliness
(for our
suburbanite
concerns)
Was there a flash
A hidden rumble
While hell fell apart
So great
Was the escape
Were there explosions
Through the night
Of grace
And miracle
Surprise
Even
That so much should happen
Well
After three days before
When all was terrible
In loss
Of death
And cause
And hope
How did heaven and Earth
Play
In that place
That spot
Of resurrection
Of the spirit
And the body
So that the body
Left
Leaving graveclothes
Leaving everything
Of death
Behind
And gone
No death
No need for herbs
Though love had brought them there
And as it
Turns out
Witnesses
Instead
To absences
And then some words
Surprising
And portentous
To all human ears
For history
How love
Abounded
How round
And I imagine
They could play
Around the empty grave
On that first day
In the morning
When all woes
Were overtaken
By surprise
And is
Prophecy worked out
Always
A surprise
A minute
Of an hour
Of joy
And then
The world
Must know
And ready for
Rise and fall
Of faith
By evidence
Of testimony
Then appearance
More meals
Together
Then a risen Lord
For good
‘Til everything
That’s good
Returns
C L Couch
Photo by Peter Herrmann on Unsplash
After the Day Before
(Holy Saturday 2024)
It must have been terrible
For those in sadness
And in terror
Who forgot
Or forsook
The prophecies were shared with them
The new ways to live
That scandalized
Now turned into fodder
For new charges
And arrests
It must have seemed
That everything was over
One and done
And extraordinary
Story
Abruptly ended
Like a battle
In blood and
Death
And loss or victory
While hades had the victory
And underneath
The devil had to laugh
While all they could
Do
Was peel in hiding heat
Freeze the blood from moving
Every hope
Removed
Left on that trash heap
For a hill
Three deaths
The day before
And now
Did anyone count
Toward
After
Or maybe there was only dust
Thrown on the synapse
Of the mind
Heavy stones upon
Like confession
The heart
C L Couch
Photo by Ian Keefe on Unsplash
the holy Wednesday
nondescript
without the cred
of Maundy Thursday
or Good Friday
a hump day in their holy week
and what might happen
preparations for the supper
after
maybe they would ask Jesus
why he wept
before their triumph
in the city
or maybe he would try to explain
to them again
what temple would it
that would be destroyed
and for faith
what might happen in three days
(maybe the human part
anticipating
wasn’t so sure)
and would they heal
would they argue
with the righteous
and the legalists
would Jesus spend some time with his mother
of the other Marys
who would be the rocks
above the rock
after all
would not the crowds be following
for what would happen next
having entered
with the palms then
later
giving money-changers
(no one liked them
anyway)
what for
while in cool and shadowed places
lit by religious fire
there would be plans
from rhetoric
with money
and other reasons for betrayal
these could have been furthered
holy Wednesday
too
that here is gray
with spindly trees
reaching out
somewhere
against a rain
that feels fatalistic
even knowing
what’s to come
in ritual
remembrance
and triumph not of palms
or cloaks upon the ground
but of the spirit
and the flesh
in resurrection
and the offer of the same
to the same
for each of us
by Sunday
C L Couch
Photo by Eric Muhr on Unsplash
(x = space)
x
x
Easter’s Earth
x
Named for not a Christian
Deity
And time
Much of the day
Is gone by now
(3:25)
This writing before tea
Perhaps
While the day began with vigils
Counting down to midnight
(the first moment)
x
Around the world
Was meat and bread
And wine
Prepared
With paintings and statues
As if prepared for ages
To remember
To celebrate
To be moved in other ways
Creation solemnized
While we keep these
From war
x
And there so many wondrous ways
To have God
To know God
And to respect God
And each other
Every day
In our day when
We know something of annihilation
This might be
The best lesson
Yet
(now)
Of all lessons
In curricula
x
And loving our neighbors
We might even take a hit
On ourselves
To have it in the world
x
Though
You know
We have to have it
If only to receive it
For the part
Of world peace
Via the golden
And the fleshly
Circulatory rule
x
Have Easter then
With joy
Passover
Ramadan
Diwali when it happens
(Holi, too)
And days of consciousness
Rising and aligned
With thoughts and awareness
In a living cosmos
x
Let peace be universal
Let’s keep our hands off the buttons
Then destroy the buttons
Recycling them
For benches
The metal of our missiles
Into ploughshares
The paper of our manuals
Into better books
By libraries
x
Yes,
With all better qualities
And efforts
Well
We should not be stupid
Everything must happen
All around
Not only in showy places
But where some think
They’re hidden,
Too
x
We’re smart
We must be practical
Do you not know
That God
Is smart
And practical as well?
And love has merit
And is the better process
Everywhere
x
Easter rising
Let the world
With other names
Be rising,
Too
x
Call this respect
Call it withholding
Call it practical
Prosperity
Call it today
And when we think of it
Or must plan for it
Also tomorrow
x
C L Couch
x
x
Photo by Tim Mossholder on Unsplash
Ukrainian Pysanky Egg // Pysanky (meaning “to write”) is an ancient egg art with origins in Ukraine and surrounding regions. Each egg is a unique handmade treasure, where beeswax and dyes are used repeatedly in the creation. Once the wax is melted away, the amazing design is revealed. Many pray while writing pysanky — please take a moment to pray for Ukraine as you read this. // Each egg was designed by Davonne Souza — Etsy.com/shop/EggspressionsByDavon
x
no commission, I simply like the storytelling—Happy Easter!
x
(x = space)
x
x
first holy saturday
x
1
x
it seems there’s nothing
but a void
after which is fear
there could be doubt
but what is left
to believe in
first
x
the body’s cared for
there’s the irony of a guard
to keep things safe
while making sure
we don’t get in
to take him
x
so what is left
but us
and an enormous world
ready to quash us
and to take our air
our allotment of
anything
allowed
x
we have gone too far
they’ll say
but we have killed the head
and now the serpent
body dies
and we shall have it
or leave it
shriveling in the shadows
or bring it to the light
to finish
dessication
and metaphors aside
we mean you
and to have you
x
your paltry movement
and there are many crosses
provided by the Romans
and the Greeks
and Egyptians
before
x
you are done
we shall have you
you are annihilated
not even space on Earth
shall have you
x
we can delight
considering
a line of graves
underneath the field
that we buy
with the silver
Judas has returned
x
well
not well
and so we hide
small care for each other
we dare to send for food
and prepare it
without fire
to share it in the dark
x
these are holy hours
we try
to pay attention
x
some count the hours
most of us
cannot do
something so constructive
x
it is finished
last words
we heard them
so did they
we wait for
we don’t know what
we have forgotten all the miracles
and all of what was said
to go with them
x
we hide
and that’s the hell of it
as it seems
that hell has won
x
2
x
there is the edge
of a hole
through which we see
what we have been taken from
and shall we try
to return
a circle
an eye
we hurt
wait, an eye
who sees
we see
does God look at us
or Rome
or the Sanhedrin
x
how can God look
God died yesterday
we saw
we heard
and it is terrible
but there’s nothing more
even from the cross
were the words
that it is finished
x
we can’t even wait
we can count the hours
but there’s nothing there
there is grief
the rightness of it
rituals
for a while
x
but then there’s nothing left
we are ridiculed
then captured
captured and then ridiculed
when it’s safe
when we are bound
bound perhaps
to crosses of our own
x
why do we even have
this day
it is a holy day
so to say
holy hours
holy minutes
x
if yesterday
had been the day
if the cross beam was
a blooded lintel
then the deadly angel
missed
or misread
and took
the righteous
anyway
against the plan
x
but it’s not fair
to miscast angels
who are commanded
by a God
who let
if not arranged for
all of this
and now has disappeared
gone to Sheol
though how can God
wait for God
x
there are no answers
only rumors
that we cannot hear
the world has closed us off
in here
and we will not snipe
or bear false hope
or cheat
material truth
x
while we are waiting
worse than that
having nothing
to wait for
x
we mourn
we cannot look
or look
taste and see
we miss our God
we were friends of God
for a little while
x
we are lost
after our paroxysms
maybe we
catch our breath a little
and shall we go where
we proclaimed it long ago
that without God
there is nowhere
the nowhere of the Sadducees
maybe
x
but on to night
and after night
not daylight
but a void
judgment perhaps
but what could we have done
when we were told
what we were told
x
friendship for hours only
new love
and now
it’s as if creation
matter
molecules
might as well
have never happened
x
C L Couch
x
x
Photo by Filip Kominik on Unsplash
x
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