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Counting Spring
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The winter is like spring
Today
Not cold,
Blustery
Keep your balloons inside
It will turn back
He saw his shadow, after all
(don’t worry—he’s not
so accurate)
We’ll need balm to fly the kite
Warmth to whet the wind
That’s when spring
Is real
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C L Couch
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Photo by Emanuel Haas on Unsplash
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(x = space)
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my heart to give
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my heart to give
lord Jesus
my worn heart
broken, stitched
machined
hardly new
why should Jesus
want it
but he’ll take it
I think
not because
of its condition
or because
he can renew
but because
he is all love
and will not refuse
love given
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after reading “In the Bleak Midwinter” by Christina Rossetti
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C L Couch
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Photo by Marija Zaric on Unsplash x
(x = space)
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Days of Ice and Fire
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My goodness, there are days
And days
So many days in winter
Solstice, Christmas, Saint Stephen’s
New Year’s,
Epiphany
Saint Brigid’s (Imbolc)
Groundhog Day
(Candlemas
more so in the world)
Lunar New Year
All the other new years
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We hope for weather
Hope for seeds
Hope for good crops in spring
Hope for spring itself
A good one,
Only wet enough
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For these hopes,
Having days
And nights
Lighting bonfires
Singing against the cold
Even white madness
In some parts
While in the south,
It’s summer
(we’d only have to look
there
for our hopes)
There are other days
At other times
But winter draws in many,
And they overlap
As cultures,
Folklores
(these days conveniences)
Decide
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We need the hope
We call it SADS to treat
(and must)
But in the old
Of old
It was the awful gathering
(full of awe)
To light the fire
Sing
And hope for more
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To sacrifice, perhaps
Or otherwise negotiate
Life on the season’s
Other side
Bargained fearfully
With god
And god
So many gods
Before we thought
We knew
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C L Couch
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photo by Miroslav Škopek on Unsplash
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clcouch123 
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