In Vigil Hours
Light and shadow
Move across the ceiling
We know this
In so many ways
By living near the street
Or with a passing
Storm
Or
Oh
So slowly
Moonlight moving in the night
Shadow and light
To make illusions with
Our help
While
We lie below
And
Frightened or inspired
Have the hours
Of night pass
C L Couch
Photo by Augustine Wong on Unsplash
(x = space)
x
x
The Boy Who Knew Something
x
A spark of something
Blown on through the breeze
Of time
What did he know?
Something about dreams, perhaps
That dreams try
To work out something
And something about wandering
That loneliness
Is good
That reactive loneliness is hard
But being on one’s own
As a decision for oneself
Is not so bad
Bicycle
Riding across an empty schoolyard
Creeking
Climbing rocks
Falling
There’s a bruise
One survives
x
The working out of dreams
When dreams are ridiculed
That’s when it gets hard
Harder than the stones
One fell upon
Growing up will help
x
If only there could be an arc
So many things
Could be worked out
x
Call it memory
Call it inspiration
Allowed to last
Let it last
x
C L Couch
x
x
Photo by Hugo L. Casanova on Unsplash
x
It Burns
Do I have any more to
Say? There should
Be something every day, though
If I worry, nothing might be
Realized
But to empty all would then,
Well, to be empty
Inspiration, what is that?
A light, a spark,
An ember from an ancient fire,
Spirit from an epic-writer
Does the fire
Burn through all the ages?
Do we have a trust,
A pledge,
To carry heated parts to the next
Fire outside the house, having
Warmed ourselves
Once more?
What is there in
The torch that borrows from
The center of the Earth?
If hell is frozen, it is heaven
That burns
Alive without consuming,
Like the bush and then the pillar
Saving Israel
Then lighting up the faces
In the temple priests affirming
All the creeds
In the presence of the holy
And in a later age, carried off in battle:
So where is it now?
In pockets of the saints
To keep them warm
Inside a cell
For living
Or for execution
And to our time it goes,
The coal for inspiration, then
To the future, though
For now
We’ll keep it here—we
Need the fire to heat up
Our reason and the craft,
All come together
For a season and then quietly,
Still glowing,
To the next
C L Couch
Photo by M.T ElGassier on Unsplash
cold winter night
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