Soundless and Unceasing
God
What shall I say to you
What shall you say
To me
I worry about words
When I think
Maybe all I need do
Even at the start
Is listen
You know
I’m engaged
And thinking of you
Without a
“Dear” or “hi”
I think
There is
Something called
Communing
And maybe that’s what I might
Do with you
Without the noise
Without
The volume
Or the volume
Of
Distraction
Hear
Perhaps with
Ears to hear
Say something
When
You know
Something
To say
And let that sixth sense
Work its magic
For a change
Not as counting
But an indication that
Something special
Might be
Happening
And
For all I know
We’ll slide into Kairos
For a while
And when it’s time
(hah)
An amen
Implied
C L Couch
Photo by Taylor Heery 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
the holey week
so this is
Holy Week
except for holes
we have
in planning
certain days
but come by the church
we will be open
all the time
you may kneel in darkness
or in daylight
whatever is the atmosphere
for God and you
to chat
for God will not mind
your mood
or what you have to say
if need be
God will listen
though profanity
though maybe
keep that
‘twixt yourselves
and God will answer in
a away
that most likely
will not satisfy
though there are
instant precedents
they are
in stories
mostly
though
we’ll leave
without resolve
unrecommended
maybe unbelieving
in the silence
that was shared
for God
works in God’s timing
and waiting much
is called for
or not
or something else
kairos
and a gift
we don’t know
how to ask for
and receive
in time
more than we could
ever ask
and ain’t that something
this translucent
faith business
that ain’t a business
but a gift store
without prices
where everything’s available
though we have to wait
to have it chosen
for us
what we need
in time
and we could call it
holy time
in a
holy week
c l couch
photo by Josh Eckstein on Unsplash
fixin’s
there is war
there is disease
there is famine
there is drought
that causes
famine
though despots
are as likely
if not more
to bring on hunger
in the folk
like you and me
there is corruption
beyond the natural
(though
we waste
enough)
there is the irony
on a blue world
of not having safe water
guaranteed
anywhere
thanks to our being here
the
poisoning residents
so war
disease
hunger
famine to hunger
lack of safe water
despots
and corruption
which is before the count
the destruction
caused by nature
that we call
our mother
time to time
raging as well
under Great Spirit
who must weep in bouts
while spelling anger
how we melt
the valleys
that his hands
pressed and made
mother nature
father spirit
(or
switch the genders
or
add to them
certainly)
leading the cosmos
and our lore
about the cosmos
and whom do we respect
what
to we respect
there’s self-respect
and what do we do
with that
other-respect
perhaps
though mostly as a type
I think
so good that we can envy
or so bad
we can relate
and so vote for
well
these are our problems
aren’t they
and listing them
might help
but as
or followed by
a plan of action
certainly
and not let sado-masochism
make our only world
for habitation
no
we can do better
I am sure
and you are sure
and when we’re sure
we’ll reach out
in spirit
and in flesh
to make it better
make the wounds better
like parents
with Band-Aids
small doses of antiseptic
under
small kisses above
then really get
to work
to make the world
cleaner
through and above
well
everything
not a purge
(never a purge)
but
to fix
and rebuild
then to design above
something to say
and fairly
journey
on to other worlds
c l couch
photo by Nicolas Gras on Unsplash
if God were speaking on a Monday
what shall God say
but that
I love you
and command you
while you ignore me
and frankly
do much worse
on your own
not that you can’t
invent things
some
many to admit
that carry goodness along
somehow
almost to defy the flaws
you insist
on leading with
things to keep life going
to have ease
in doing other things
if not
the reasons why
that I’m afraid I have
and my host
reveals
which I do not withhold
at all
though you will
have spirit
without me
and so dilute
my love
and certainly
my command
for you know
I am God
and cannot give you names
for me
out of convenience
a god of attribute
interesting
but not conclusive
let alone relevant
in any
situation
I am God
and I love you
and I command
and would direct you
day to day
and in the moments
with perfection
and all
love
and yet do leave you
to yourselves
which might seem puzzling
to think on it
since I could have made you
something propelled
only by
my will
but then what would
you be
the ends of strings
while even angels have
more will than that
and I want
you to be you
in every way
which means
I leave you
to you your own
first on the inside
then the outside
and then how you might affect
this first world
of ours
I love you
and command you
and must have you
be you
even to
the withholding of myself
and ourselves
to let you go
and then come back
and should remain
on your own
and I know
it sounds
as if manipulations
slides
as if
serpentine
through all
but how free
does it seem to you
unless you oppress
each other
how free to decide
on you
and me
and how things are
what is reality
and places in it
how I made you
how I love you
globes of energy
with limbs
and brains
hearts that pump
so much more than blood
though wondrous
all parts
and all parts are yours
not because I say so
but what is
and I was here
and shall return
and shall in spirit
reside
invest this moment
all
for your consideration
and what of the cosmos
I keep going
as in maintaining
anyway
and shall you rise
I hope so
rise through all distractions
that are fallen
and keep you falling
still
decide
then
what you will
and don’t worry
how I judge the rest
that’s up to me
and I know
potential
and ability
take each one on
sometimes in pairs
and finally a people
with a fate
now let’s
find out
what that is
maybe together
c l couch
photo by Hamdhulla Shakeeb on Unsplash
Isle
Maldives, Maldives
published 12 hours ago [2 p.m.]
in her father’s and her mother’s house
(for Saint Patrick’s Day)
Brigid
told her father
about faith
and made a cross of straw
to make her point
that Christ
and faith in Christ
is made of
ordinary things
even life in the spirit
even faith
because the spirit
has been with us
since creation
and was
the cause
of creation
and he believed
and made a kingdom
of it
which might
not seem fair
since
everyone should make up
their own minds
so as
to understand the stakes
and that
the stakes are high
in choosing
one way
or another
which is why
conversion by
a literal sword
let alone doctrinal
isn’t the
best strategy
and
in fact
far from it
believe or not
one by one
and two
and then whatever
however
a family is defined
as in
as for me
and my house
because the house
believes
and then
a group
a temple community
or in said houses
where the faithful
used to meet
at first
you know
where people lived
wherever
sometimes while
persecuted generally
and so to meet
in a hiding
of some sort
with symbols on the outside
exchanged
in a kind
of code
and so Brigid
took her chances
even
with her father
since rule was absolute
back then
and it all could have gone
another way
but she was
and is
connected to the ages
and the land
and maybe she knew
how everything should
fit
and how a cross
of straw
might seem
to teach it all
like bread
and wine
and other things
(straw
a shamrock)
might have an added
use
for spiritual matters
worship
or evangelism
so Christ be with you
in every way
the breastplate indicates
and the faith
as Brigid knew
the cause of Christ
but only
one by one
and then two
and then the group
of however many
is defined
first as family
then a wider
(not political)
community
c l couch
photo by Boston Public Library on Unsplash
Shall We Dance
I don’t know what
To say
More importantly,
I don’t know what
To do
What would you do?
You would love through everything
And give
And serve
You would breathe justice
And you would also allow everyone a voice
And give everyone a turn
You would let water roll
And gather it in still, green places
So that people might have a drink
And maybe around which
To build
And then let the water move on
So that it gathers safely
And keeps moving to feed others
You would
Protect the land,
Give people what they, what we, need
Though we would yet be on our own
Because that is the truth and mystery of will
You would allow each one an hour on one’s own
And make it fine
When each of us returns
To be welcomed back sometimes as if we had been gone for a long while
You would let us be parents
And also children
The child to be a child, certainly,
And also let the grown-ups be from time to time
Like children
You would remember we aren’t perfect
There are flaws built in through sin that maybe wasn’t ours
But in some paradox
Or even some kind of unfairness
We’re left to deal with
One by one
And in every generation, until everything’s renewed
‘Til then
You’ll keep us from perfection
Yet love us without flaw
While we will pray and liturgize haphazardly
Depending on our creeds and the splinters we’ve allowed
‘Til unity
Make sense
For love
And practicality
And you come down
Come up
Come form the side
At last
To finish the justice that was started in creation
To fix our flaws
The way we broke the Earth
The way we break each other
Mended finally
To last
As last
And how we were
The first day that you made us
When we had a garden to tend
That for all we know
Was planetwide
At first
And everything to name
Because you meant for us to task
Everything we are
And love the work
And labor of our lives
So today I will wonder
And do things
And wondering’s a thing
And think on you
And think on everyone
And everything
On Earth
And in the stars that as a kind
We have only started
To approach
And hopefully
If flawed
Though flawed for now
And even though
With your approval
As some of us
Wrote and sang
Shall we dance
After our work
And in our work
C L Couch
The popular song “Shall We Dance” is from the musical The King and I, though there is an earlier, eponymous movie (a vehicle for Rogers and Astaire).
Photo by Levi Williams on Unsplash
fish Friday
it’s a gray day
should it get darker
it will look more
than
a fish Friday
in Lent
we’ll hear the silence
the press
of what
will feel more
the smell of storm
for now
the taste
of dry moments
is it a desert
underneath the gray
a world
we will not recognize
has only
death to offer
after all rewards
of Earth
and us
a plane
that has no feature
(worse than deserts)
no signals
no direction
anything
to show a way
to make sense of
any steps
we might try to take
while on this
measureless
level
that might not be level
for
we could be upside-down
or inside-out
then wake up
to Friday
and it’s Lent
the season still
a still
season
have the fish
go to church
whatever
make it count
whatever
listen
watch
and learn
our faith
and our existence
might rely
on these
here
there are
symbols and signs
arrows
stones in a line
weights
to appreciate
and even try to carry
in a season
one walked this way
and every step
a burden
smoothed
wickedly
by sweat
and blood
we’re on our knees
we also
try to walk
that way
the steps now dried
through ages
wearing
ritual
the chance for meaning
or indifference
our choice
like the choice
for faith
Friday
Lent
and the other days
without fat or sugar
or without
tradition
make tradition
with the faith that is forever
that unchanges for
our ages
mutable
and
so very
needful
c l couch
photo by James Coleman on Unsplash
[photographer’s caption follows]
I took this on the 22nd of April 2019, on the day I heard of the bombing of 3 churches on Easter Day in Sri Lanka. Jesus weeps with you.
word
oh
I don’t know
the word should be
love
shouldn’t it
our shibboleth
perhaps
a password to know
the enemies
in our camp
to send them back
with a regret
if they
won’t join
with us
there is a battle
sad to say
a sortie
in a war
a war of ages
that began
who knows when
well
who on this
side
knows
is heaven’s rebellion
happening now
in fact
have a third
of angels
fallen
only recently
one third
waging war
as if to win
goaded by their chief
no doubt
to believe it
or
to act that way
and
love could stop the war
could stop all wars
if we could
bring it
to the table
and we can
it’s both
strong
and risky
to present
while those across might
react
with repudiations
then
bring their weapons out
from
hiding places
over hills
nearby
but it’s also
the only way
the only
way
that sticks
the only way that leads
to water
and to food
to shelter
and to safety
a
cessation
of hostilities
that will allow
if not incite
the
saving measures
allowing
peace
whether or not
it passes understanding
a Mispah benediction
clasping
without weapons
on
or close
and better
without weapons
in the mind
the war is over
who has won
invisible God
has won
the one who will
not gloat
or exact
spine-breaking
reparations
but will direct
the world
to rebuild itself
with help
from the angels
who are angels
for love
does this
love
does all of this
I learn this late
we learn this late
but there is time
for some
and more
in time we have
and time
beyond
time
love without
conditions
since there is too much
time
on the other side
(once there)
these
so do our best
for now
let love
be love
and to impose
with hope
and without
strategy
(consider the war
above)
or expectation
love
the word
and then the word
amen
c l couch
photo by Feliphe Schiarolli on Unsplash
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