Prayer in Search of a Liturgist
And if we pray
Should we find a service
Or something
A box
As it were
In which to keep it
Give it
A liturgical home
A formal place
To live
Like a tabernacle or
A reliquary
Or may our prayer
Rise to the trees
And that’s
Enough
Not even to find a nest
But leave the tree’s tendrils
To aim
Even for soaring
Blue then white
Then to the black of space
Or
Un-Claudius like
Might it be helpful
For a prayer
To descend
Into the ground
To talk with
Seeds
Or to the ocean floor
For octopi-like things or
Expulsive vents
Or to go down
To a kind of nothingness
That you are Lord of
Too
Directionful
Directionless
Might prayer go where it needs to be
Where it un-needs to be
For your approval
And
Somehow
For application
Even without much more
Than itself
By itself
To consider
By us
By tree
By space
By Earth
By depth
By you
C L Couch
Photo by Bogomil Mihaylov on Unsplash
(Claudius in Hamlet declares “My words fly up, my thoughts remain below;/Words without thoughts never to heaven go.”)
A People of All Seasons
(to the accomplishment and memory of President Jimmy Carter)
Sacrifice
And service
Duty
As love
All of these
Impulses
And choices
Be love
As in
Love of country
Love of each other
Preference
For peace
And everyone be fed
And living safely
In
Unconscious readiness
For something from an outer circle
To round in
Provide the next challenge
For
A species
Shall we care and
Shall
We lift each one
Diversely
And also through
One principle
And let that principle
Of course
Be that
Of love and growth
And so earn
That readiness
Even while
Simply
Learning delight
In the energy
Of ourselves
Sponsored
And
Grown of ourselves
While
Naturally enough
God might
Approve
Then leave us as in let
Us
To what’s next
C L Couch
Photo by Jp Valery on Unsplash
(x = space)
x
x
Taproot
x
The brown blade sinks
And feeds the seed
That was a part
x
Seeds that sleep through
Cold time
Far enough
North or south
x
Something new and all the same
For being new
Will rise in spring
x
C L Couch
x
x
The Colors of Nature Caught on a Hike
Photo by Don Raridon on Unsplash
x
Day 141
Today is Day 141
In a one-hundred-eighty day
School year
Thirty-nine days to go
Thirty-nine?
What a drag!
Yes, daughter, but can
You not see what you have
Achieved?
Can you not feel progress?
How about some growth?
Try to find some joy in
Growing through the
Thirty-nine
You’re going anyway,
My dear
C L Couch
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