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Jerusalem

Processionals

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take away the confessional and informative emendations and there’s one poem here with endings like certain music selections

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Processionals

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I think

Often of David

Of a picture

I have seen

Or made up

It’s when the ark

Is brought into

Jerusalem

And it’s a triumph

A kind of victory

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And I think of David

Young

(and was he young)

Dancing

Before the ark

Not wearing much

But he’s king

And he arranged all this

And so

The instruments

Let play

And maybe favorites

Follow suit

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I see light colors

As if this were a desert scene

Done as a picture

With pastels

You know

I think I figure the hair

On David

From the statue by

Michelangelo

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Processions are important

He and they

Had to have one

Because the ark

Would have a home

Forever

Well

At least for generations

(I should

look this up

it might be before

Absalom)

But what do we know

Today is forever

And the

Ark is here

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And Jesus came

Into Jerusalem

And a procession

Was needed

And so it was

Arranged

In humility

And somehow awesome

Awful majesty

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C L Couch

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I worked on this scene before as a draft; I have in mind I didn’t finish it, and this time I did; but if the other work appeared and I forgot, then I apologize for the repetition—CLC

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and a bit more (for free)

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a coda

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David was a shepherd

He was a king

He was loved by God

As either

So are you

Loved by God

For either

Any

Way

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Photo by Alberico Bartoccini on Unsplash

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(and here’s the lesson should you need one

coda 2

that was D. S.

this is D. C.)

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Jesus came

Into Jerusalem

Like the ark

Meaning a triumph

Victory

For a home people

Battling

To keep a promise

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And like the ark

Is lost

Defeat

And sacrifice

Through lack of faith

(bad kings—you may

look it up)

And so sacrilege

And a new needed

Promise

Follows

(read the prophets)

For restoration

Of the people

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Turns out

It’s Israel

And all of us

Redeemed

Through this

Second coming

Triumph

Then sacrifice

This time as well

And

Cosmically speaking

Greater

All the world

And how far out

On the edge

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With destruction

Turned to joy

With all our flaws intact

Until a final resurrection

That will keep

Us and the world

Intact

And better

And forever

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Stone not only

Rolled away

But smashed

Here endeth

And look

And listen

Smell

And taste

And touch

This is the start

And we might think we do

But we don’t know

What’s next

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Glory

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Glory

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It’s a Sunday feeling

For those who have a Sunday

To be speaking

And singing to the Lord

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The pastor cites

The shortest psalm

As an invocation,

Which is an invitation

More so a directive

To be singing

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Can you imagine David

Dancing first

Before the ark

When it was brought into

Jerusalem?

There was singing then

And all the instruments

We’ve heard about

That played

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Today is Mission Sunday at this church

So there are connections to the world

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Everyone’s invited

Everywhere

Not as a number

But as you,

You are invited

To meet Jesus

Through us

Not because we are messiahs

But because

We can quote him

Tell his story

Show you something of his love

For everyone

And the hope that the whole human world

Might be saved,

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Which is God’s wish

But not God’s will

For God has mitigated God

In favoring our will

And our decisions

Yes, it’s the reason why

The world is so flawed

And screws up so badly

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That according to the story

Has made us

The silent planet in the universe

Burning other planets

With what happened in the garden

And then

Going quiet

While the planet’s fate is determined

Of itself

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Then there will be noise

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But here is David

In Jerusalem

And there is great noise

Locally

That celebrates

That helps to consecrate

The presence and the symbol

And our rendering of faith

In holy God

And in each other

As neighbors

And a nation

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The world will not know you, Lord;

And nations will fall

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We could wish it were not so,

And we do

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But not everyone will be there

In the sky

The circle won’t be broken

But our hearts,

Well,

They are other matters

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It’s a Sunday feeling

For those who have a Sunday

And take one

Or on another day

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We have been ransomed

From kidnapping,

From the prisons

Huge or small—all intimate

When they should not

Have to be

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The world violates our souls

And yet we believe

And from the ashes

Of all sins consumed

At last,

We shall rise

Who choose to rise

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The glory of the Lord

In homely ways

Inside the heart

We do not understand

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How something so

Cosmically grand

Can live in something

So small

As our souls,

One soul by one

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Then there is the glory

That we read about

And then imagine:

The universe made straight

While also bending low,

We with that

And all the Earth

That knows at last

This is it,

The certainty of God

In blinding presence

That will not hurt our eyes

And the song of angels,

Unbinded song

That should destroy

But will not touch eardrums

Adversely

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The glory of the Lord

Clearly

All there is,

Compelling

As to break our souls

Though it will not—in fact,

We’ll never had been

Better,

Freer,

Then to get

Our next assignments

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C L Couch

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Photo by Christian Cagni on Unsplash

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holy and holy

(x = space)

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holy and holy

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one priest one day a year

I wonder if it were cleaned

maybe by the priest

how dusty would it get

without a cleaning

over time

would the priest walk through dust

to find the glorious container

in which was God

maybe a walk through dust

reminded the priest

of mortality

on the way to what is glory

and shall never change

such a day it might be

when splendid robes

are marred

walking through the dust

accumulated

by passing time

by mortality

by forbidding rules

with eternity beyond

how tempting it might be

to stay

not have to walk back

through the particles

of death

reminding everything unclean

but the assignment ends

other rules pull

back through earth

back to earth

changed

moving faith

for another year

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c l couch

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Photo by Andy Køgl on Unsplash

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