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Saint James

(x = space)

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Saint James

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That’s good

Now will you add some O-s with me?

That’s gooood

And now

That’s gooooooood

The gospel

The jazz

Making everything

That is

You know

So created

And insinuated

(maybe with

a little slide)

GOOOOOOOOOOD!

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Then we may

In the

Genesis world

With its poets be

Saintly, too,

And who knows

Maybe

(maybe a little whispery

for humility)

gooooooooooood

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C L Couch

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saying, singing (playing) “The Creation” by James Weldon Johnson

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. . .

Then God smiled,
And the light broke,
And the darkness rolled up on one side,
And the light stood shining on the other,
And God said: That’s good!

. . .

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Photo by Leonard Alcira on Unsplash

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Maybe Start with Unaware Awareness

(x = space)

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Maybe Start with Unaware Awareness

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What is beauty

Who knows

Who knows

And decides

No one

But someone

Something

Qualities

We say

Evening gown

Swimsuit

Answers to questions

And the talent part

And then scholarships

We hop

We hope

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Well

Consider the pot

That has fallen

And is broken

And the Japanese

Shall with skill

And wisdom

Apply gold

To the broken parts

In making

A new whole

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And where is the beauty

In the original

The brokenness

The healing

New beauty

And new usefulness

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Or is it in the day

That no one else has made

But there is water

There is sky

And for ground for continents

Coasts and mountains

Plains between

The piedmont

Where we learn to climb

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Who made this

And

Let’s have it

Anyway

(determinism later)

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Let’s dance

Because we don’t how

And take a lifetime

Uncertain

And uncertain

To learn

And to allow for pleasure

In first steps

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And is there truth in beauty

Sure

Why not

There is also play

And we can argue

If we know no better

Our of ignorance

An argument

To articulate

We can’t article

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And keep in mind

What is frozen

On the urn

And in the text

Is movement

A celebration

And reminder

About moving

Celebrating

Playing

Working

(the potter must have worked hard)

All to say

To have

That there is beauty

There is truth

There is your mother

There is your child

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Order disorder

If we must

Or if we must

Leave it go

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C L Couch

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“Ode on a Grecian Urn,” John Keats

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by Valerie McGlinchey, CC BY-SA 2.0 uk, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=9977409

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trinitarian

(x = space)

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trinitarian

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nothing shall separate us

from the love of God

which is a promise

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so why do we feel differently

why do we shirk

why does doubt work so well

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we can say that it’s a sin

that it’s a fallen world

well enough

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but faith and love are so attractive

and so active

why back away

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there is the world

the match of us that says

none of it’s real

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that real is flesh and metal

while evidence of faith and love

has neither

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invisibility

dark glass

land of shadows

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these are what we have for proof

and means of proof

all of which is unconvincing

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peace passing understanding

but it’s understanding

that we need

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and will not get it

unadulterated

by the hard means of the world

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a world we feel

a world we have

and must live in for now

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and for an age

after the Anthropocene

and afterward

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who knows

and that is it

who knows

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promises as metaphors

streets of transparent gold

advocacy always in our favor

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should we choose

and we must choose

from lack of evidence

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we choose

and we do

and we believe

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crops are promised

in our seasons

wonderful abstracts

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turned real

and that is it

it’s all turned real

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faith

hope

and love

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a Celtic knot

tied and loose

three parts everywhere

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God

Earth

and us

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c l couch

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nothing shall separate us from the love of God

romans 8:38-39

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5,000 year-old triskelion on an orthostat at newgrange

by young shanahan – https://www.flickr.com/photos/youngshanahan/10644977574/, CC BY 2.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=110911537

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Piglet and Samwise

(x = space)

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Piglet and Samwise

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Piglet and Samwise

Would that

We could

Only think on them

To be them

Or to appreciate

Steadfast

Companions

And companionship

So close to us

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They’re smart

Don’t miss that

They’re clever

Too

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Sometimes they carry

Oh

So much

And are capacious

To take on our burdens

Too

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They trim the verge

They stir the honey

In the pot

For consistency

Well

Of verge

And pot

Or rather

What’s inside

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They have their homes

But leave them gladly

To find us

And then to journey

With us

When

They reach us

And we tell them

Or somehow we know

We’re moving on

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You’re leaving

Then

We’re going with you

To the other side of the wood

Or through

Minas Morgul

Into Mordor

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Like grace

They will go far with us

Wishing to go

The entirety

Of the calling

To adventure

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And maybe they will

Or maybe there’s a part

We’ll have to go on

All our own

And then

To meet them later

(with success)

Someday to consider

Final matters

(then)

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And in the mean time

There are parties

And there is

Conversation

On paths

Off the paths

On bridges

Inside when there are storms

Outside

After

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Christopher Robin once

Said about his mother

Than when she left their home

To wander round

(that is, around)

The hundred-acre wood

Christopher had asked

Would she like him

To go with her?

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She said no

But when I return

Greet me as if

I had been gone

A long

Long

Time

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Maybe we always have

Such friends

As heroes or companions

Recalling

We are both

To each other

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C L Couch

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Piglet sidled up to Pooh from behind.
“Pooh!” he whispered.
“Yes, Piglet?”
“Nothing,” said Piglet, taking Pooh’s paw. “I just wanted to be sure of you.”

― A.A. Milne, The House at Pooh Corner

(cited at or by GoodReads)

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Piglet, as you know, is the companion to Winnie the Pooh.  Samwise (Gamgee) is the gardener and companion to Frodo Baggins, the bearer of the ring in The Lord of the Rings.  Each separately or both together was or were mentioned in a sermon that I heard today.  I’m sorry I don’t remember why.  Jesus had companions, too, though that was not the pastor’s point (or they were not his points).

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The story of Christopher Robin and his mother is told in The Enchanted Places, an autobiography.

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Photo by Arwin Neil Baichoo on Unsplash

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The Advocate

(x = space)

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The Advocate

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What shall we say

But that God loves us

Anyway

We will be judged

And all the  rest

All we fear

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But our doctrine

Represents reality

For there

Will be an advocate

Like a lawyer

Pro bono for love

To stand for us

With something better

Than our fear

Our guilt

Could understand

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Something that works

To save us

Anyway

Through lack of evidence

Or character

Reports

But for love of us

That we reached out for

Just a smidgeon

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Was enough

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C L Couch

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Photo by Jon Tyson on Unsplash

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Ad Libitum

(sorry, this is long—for what it’s worth, it’s in three parts: you could read one part and then another, later; thanks for reading either way or at all; oh, and there are notes below

do I need one title over this? maybe Obbligato or better Ad Libitum)

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Ad Libidum

(a journey like Dante, Odysseus, or the hero in The Hero and the Crown)

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takeover

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am I under attack?

maybe in a kind of

Screwtape way

with subtleties

sly distractions

angers

and a state of frustration

the Lewis pegged

the twentieth century

the corporate lies

we tell

the bureaucracies

like gods

we serve

x

more personally

I have given in

and sometimes I wonder

about dreams

and the waking-up

disoriented

as if I don’t know the room

I’ve tried to sleep in

over years

or maybe

it’s more obvious

something negative

takes over

and gets worse

and there is nothing else

to see

or taste

or in which to believe

all is lust

without commitment

theft of energies

when I have none

or

destruction

of the normal

and the decent

and expected

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overthrown

by unnatural surprise

and then

in praise of nothing

self-destruction

taking as many molecules

as I may

with me

and I have lost my hope

in you

there is no you

only targets

and sensations

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all bad

all going nowhere

all sin

a rage that blinds

as if

I were a vengeful hero

though the song has turned

into

spinning anger

promising an end

to something good

and maybe

long-lasting

x

though I have kicked out

oaths and promises

in favor of

the awful

ending

now

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x

after-action

x

the end

might be an exorcist

something has to give

has to go

revelation

just in time

or on the morning after

or even the next hour

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confession?

well

all is ego

and there is no ego

so there be sneering

at the thought

or comment

of remediation

in other words

stop

simply stop

for now

x

breathe

think

x

what’s in pieces

might be brought

together

or it might take faith

more than

either of us has

lingering beliefs

now shattered

lying all around

filtering the air

with a severity

of sin

to breathe

x

it could be theft

returning what was taken

it could be consumption

spent

and maybe inhalation

bring it back again

or something more

someone else

with something else

mercy, anyway

and love

x

and so

Dante might be saved

by Beatrix

once having felt the invitation

of the lowest circle

Satan and archdemons

forever frozen

and forever flying

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purgatorio

to gain a paradiso

stopped there

while back through

the circles

their numbers decrease

I rise

and that which saves

rise with me

‘til I reach the saving soil

of normal Earth

and a chance

because I’m here

(no other reason

for the wrong)

and have a day

an hour

handful of seconds

for

you know

repentance

penitence

sorrow to grieve

hope in the quiet

after

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the demons lash elsewhere

they lick the stamps

of their agendas

sent from cubicles

and corner offices of hell

while I might be clear

and on a hillside

or other rim of Earth

know the sky

throughout the hours

and the saving grace

of what I know

the God

of sun and moon

sisters and brothers

equidistant from the light

who believe

and hope

and try

with me

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inferno

purgatorio

what now

the paradiso?

maybe

maybe another day

for figuring

then let go the numbers

except one

perhaps

and three

and then everything

is countless

for a universe

and you and I

are two and one

and there’s nothing more

complex

than faith and hope

and love

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disposition

x

while we might breathe clear

of Earth

on Earth

as in heaven

all dimensions

obeisant

at the last

and we live forever

like a day

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c l couch

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quite plainly, a description of a process of spiritual warfare, guessed at through the ages, I try at it pedestrianly today

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works cited (sort of)

The Screwtape Letters

The Divine Comedy

The Hero and the Crown by Robin McKinley

other things, I’m sure

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Photo by Miguel Bruna on Unsplash

Even the Dead have their tasks.

Limón Province, Costa Rica

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who hopes for good days

(haiku)

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who hopes for good days

apple blossoms or small fruits

how transitions go

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c l couch

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Photo by SIMON LEE on Unsplash

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The Splendid Myth

(x = space)

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The Splendid Myth

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We have a problem

Everywhere

In that

We perceive myth

As untruth

As a story

That’s a lie

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That’s a myth

We say

Meaning it’s

Untrue

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But myth itself

Is better

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It’s is a culture’s aim

To explain

What is larger

Than our words

Because

It’s larger than our thoughts

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The source of things

The wherewithal

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The why

The motivation

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Weather

Natural disaster

Seasons

Where and when

There are seasons

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The attributes of animals

And of ourselves

And finally

Mortality

Of everything

It seems

Except perhaps

The Earth itself

The light and dark

With sun and moon

And other skyward things

We might take in

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Though all these

Need our stories

Too

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These are myths

Neither stupid

Nor naïve

For they are put together

By great minds

And hearts

To work the mind

To placate

To work

To stir toward greater

Effort

Greater meaning

Our thoughts

Our feelings

All our ambitions

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Everything

Given worth

If partially

Yet splendidly

Explained

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C L Couch

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Photo by Gabriel Ramos on Unsplash

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Hellish Season

(x = space)

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Hellish Season

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It’s summer

And it’s hot

The sky too dense

With particulates

Of fires

And there’s

An irony of floods

And there is war too hot to fight

Yet fought

There

And in

We’ve heard

The war at home

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Too much heat

It could seem

For sin

And yet not (yet) hot enough

To forestall

Our trying

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And should

The hellish rise

In us

Around us

There might be balm

Valued

And adored

x

Christ

(of battle

of

the coming of the Lord)

Spirit

And angels

Come with mercy

Like cool liquid

On fevered heads

Once bodies

Have been taken

From the fray

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And then the heat

Might break

A cooling rain

In fact

Begins and lasts

All the next day

Like the fourth day after

Three days

Of terrifying

Awesome

Blooded battle

All battles drawing blood

But this

Specifically at Gettysburg

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Four days at Gettysburg

The fourth day for rain

To wash the field

To mist the ignominy

Either of retreat

Or too much victory

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C L Couch

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(after three days of accidental, built-up, pent-up, exhausting, murderous battle, starting on the first, the battle at Gettysburg was done and on the fourth day there was rain—ironic for the nation, being the Fourth of July, of course our independence day for the USA)

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Photo by Henrique Sá on Unsplash

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