the wanderer
(after losing everything)
winter arrives
there might be a storm
of ice and snow
in days
I’m not ready
but I’m never ready
not when I have so little
with which
to endure
I’d sell my soul
for food
and warmth
but God won’t let me
there is still the notion
of my soul
that is
assayed as worthless here
but might
be worth something
set on a scale
for heaven
so I shall
persist
until my spirit
has run dry
of blood
and will
and pray to God
that I’ll be taken easily
once warmed before I die
and only so much
before
having arrived
I’m washed in comfort
and apology
in paradise
c l couch
inspired by “The Wanderer,” a poem from a millennium ago at least, and by pressing issues now
photo by Noah Silliman on Unsplash
Desert Mother and Father
(contemplating Holy Family narratives)
With her husband, she
Flees with her child;
They go in the desert way,
If anyone can hurry.
They arrive in pharaohs’
Land, now a Roman colony.
What happens now?
They will live in exile,
Then return to native land,
Moving toward home in
Relative safety. She is
The desert mother, now—
He the desert father.
Child of the wilderness,
He will be taken there
Again, driven by God and
God-made agencies. He
will defeat the devil: after
To home and elsewhere in
The land, nevermore in
Safety. In millennial ages,
Spirit-led parents, not
Attached, will live in
Heathen caves and cells
To mentor the will of God,
To recall in scoured
Understanding and
Legacied devotion—what
This first desert family
Rescued and made real.
clcouch123 
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