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night

Black Hours

gray time

In Vigil Hours

Shares

Gospel according to for good or ill ourselves

Lisburn Road at night

the holey week

Longing for the God who Stays

(x = space)

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Longing for the God who Stays

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Now to say

Something about God

Whom I do not know

A phantom lover

Cupid to Psyche

Embodied in the night

Gone by morning

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And there the myth must end

For there’s a presence

Always

In the day

In all the hours

Probably in nanoseconds

In the smallest things

Perhaps

Angels dancing with electrons

‘Round the nuclei ephemera

Of thought

And awareness

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Then the lovers meet

Again in dreams

Where we might talk

Words becoming solid

Resting in the liquid

Like a loving cup provided

Of the night

Out or which

We drink

Words and meaning

Clearly

In the night

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Which might work

For a spiritual life

Except that in the daytime

There are daytime expectations

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Who really stays

Who really goes

I make up things

For fear

Of isolation

And a longing for solidity

For the God who’s always there

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C L Couch

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Photo by Luca Bravo on Unsplash

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First Frost

(x = space)

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First Frost

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1

Last night

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It kills some things

Blankets others for the night

That is the final season

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Nature knows

What we try to control

Knowing that relenting is

The final lesson

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2

Ally ourselves

Withal

The nature of our lives

With the nature

Steadfast all around

Whose

Perturbations are

A part of all of it

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Rhythms

Cycles

Seasons

Storms and quakes

Floods and eruptions

Take too many

Should have their own

Rhythms

Cycles

Seasons

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Try to dance

Like skaters

Swimmers

Climbers

They all fall

And rise again

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We could take care

Of all of us

This way

And let us grow

Into work as play

And play as work

(if we take in both parts)

Into retirement

What comes next after

Seed and bloom

Trunk and ever after

Life again

Life ever after

Goes the story

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Join with the movement

Of the seasons

Of the spheres

While together

Work it out

For better times

Reasoned

Lives today

Living ahead

The generations of the forest

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We are the forest

Too

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C L Couch

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(the briefest of bibliographies)

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The Word for World Is Forest

Ursula K. Le Guin

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Let all things now living a song of thanksgiving
To God the Creator triumphantly raise,
Who fashioned and made us, protected and stayed us,
Who guideth us on to the end of our days.

Katherine Davis

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Photo by Aaron Burden on Unsplash

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