Kind Brief Invocation
O God
Be our Tuesday help
Forgive us our
Mistakes
Our other-side-of
Edenness
‘Cause
Sometimes
We let fall
Or we forget
Without malice
But our flaws
Pervade
There is
The Kintsugi of wisdom
Help us fix
And even beautify
The scars
By
Gold understanding
C L Couch
Photo by Brian Pappel on Unsplash
[sun and dew transform—goldify, as it were]
(x = space)
x
x
Eighth
x
Remember August
Starts in gold
And ends
Overlapping
With the wind
x
The next month is seven
Prior for the emperor
Who never was
And was the first
x
Ten months
And we have twelve
The ones we know
Who count the calendar
Finally
The pope’s way
x
But each month
Has a treasure
In its story
x
This month starts in gold
And ends with
Windy promises
In these parts
Of autumn
x
Unique
What happens
In your days
Divide them up
And celebrate
The units
In your month
And what I hope is your
Many-monthed story
x
C L Couch
x
x
Photo by Thom Milkovic on Unsplash
x
three poems about light
by C L Couch
The Light We Make
White lights
Illuminate too much
I don’t like them
In headlights or in overhead neon,
Especially
Where is the dawn
That softly cascades on all
Things below
If it’s an emergency,
That’s one thing
But for day-to-day, why
Can’t we have gold
Freely delivered from
Heaven’s treasure
Or more homely manufacturing?
Better the dawn, I think,
For inspiration
A glimpse of visioning like
Angels,
A reason at the start of day
Galadriel Comes to Rivendell
(a Middle-Earth lyric)
In a penultimate age
Galadriel comes to Rivendell
To toast with Elrond
A Elbereth Gilthoniel
Whom shell they be meeting soon
On the first shore
Of unending
Once upon a timeless time
And everlasting
Well done, the half-elf declares
I knew you were hiding by
The gate
Hidden by my host, she corrects
They would not bear
To evidence my presence
So far from the
Golden wood of home
Where, alas, Celeborn remains
But ready, comes the declaration
From the host, back to the
Final battle,
Always ready, and she smiles
All our allies had not yet
Arrived
I would have gone to them
You would have commended
Or commanded all of us there,
I wonder
I would not have said a
Word
The authority of your magic
Is the message
In elvish silence
Even better, I think?
She sipped
And so they talked, old friends
As much as majesty and crusade allow
While the night inside faded
Outside a new day already
Transpiring
That would no longer know them
Might they leave
Yet a hint of Hollin
Goodness might remain
Where they once passed
[all the rest is benediction and epilogue]
So their time
Our time
An age between
Rises at dawn
Under a yellow, mortal sun
No longer blessed
By characters
And presence
A benediction before
They leave
All doors open wide
To welcome gratitude
Or rudeness
Mortals’ choice
An eagle’s blessing
Then all the keepers of blue flame
And light we cannot bear
Are gone
Misfit
The lights of heaven
Are too much for me
I cannot manage
Pure light that has other
Texture
I need light gobos through wisping clouds
And trees,
Dressed in motley by
All earthly forms and shadows
In the shade
Is fine for me
Though not in formless dark,
Please
Readiness for paradise
Means new lenses, I suppose
Like focusing kaleidoscopes
Or tracing light through prisms
I will adjust
Or be adjusted
By perfect agencies
Gate-keepers,
Heaven-defenders
Who see all clear
For ages, now
So will you
So will I
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