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Love Rules

(x = space)

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Love Rules

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And what does love say

But

To wait as in

Have patience, to wait

As in readiness to serve

Then serving

Love as a good question

And an impulse,

Love of everything

Except that which is evil,

Which destroys

As in the field

Or in freedom

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Love today, love now

It is the height,

The depth, the middle way

We can come back to it,

Should we need to

Should we lose our way, now

And then

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I mean self-love,

Certainly, but love of others,

Too

Love of partners, love of

Family, of friends

Love of strangers—there’s a

Greek and Christian

Story

About that, while

I imagine everywhere

There is a story about

Entertaining strangers

Who are angels,

Unawares

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So be aware and ready,

And

Love in the mean time

Not because heaven

Says so,

Though it does,

But because it’s the best

Humanity as well—the

Kind we know, even to know

It from

Pushing it down

Get help, get therapy

Read and write it

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For love must be way:

Easy, difficult, wounding

And then healing

Praying

And, yes, planning

Understanding on the inside

To do it on the outside—

Realized in all dimensions

Not weak but weak,

Protected,

Strong on its own

Ready for each day

When there will be joy

Within the labor

x

I’ll stop on Poe’s

Favorite sound (made by o-r),

Though here

It’s but a schwa:

Love is small

Love is large

Its power suffuses all

There is none greater

None smaller

Children can manage

So must we all

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C L Couch

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Photo by Magdalena Smolnicka on Unsplash

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Too Good a Day

(x = space)

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Too Good a Day

(not really)

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Blue and green

And black and brown,

All in their places

It’s a grand day—

Pretty as a picture,

Some might say,

Though I think it goes

The other way around;

The dust-bunnies

Could come out

To play except that

I would see them,

Which is the drawback:

The sun is good upon

The rugs, and I can see

Everything I should

Be picking up

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C L Couch

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Photo by Mathew Schwartz on Unsplash

Elk County, United States

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Asking Questions, Desert Mother

(x = space,

because I can’t cut and paste

using the new WordPress editor—

grrr)

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Asking Questions, Desert Mother

(two poems)

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Asking Questions

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After the years,

Asking questions that

Could be left to children:

What do I want to

Be when

I grow up?

What do you want

Of me, dear Lord,

Or anyone (else)

Who cares?

How do I give without

Being taken in?

(okay, this question

more for the grown-up, maybe

embittered)

x

And do we

Always ask these questions,

Or is it more rarefied

To do so?

Or simply strange

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There is a wider

World of happenings,

Some brutal and, well,

Simply bad

Though much of it

Is beautiful,

Inside and outside human

Flesh and in

The natures we’ve been given,

The nature of ourselves and

The nature of the planet

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These days, especially, it’s

Not hard to find out

What’s going on,

Though much remains

Hidden by

The agenda-hiders, which

Is regrettable

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All shall be known,

Eventually

And it might go hard

But, you know, for now

Let’s keep asking questions

Of ourselves,

Our world,

And of God

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Let’s take lifetimes, then,

To learn to ask

And then be satisfied with

What we learn

When asking,

Because we’re still outside the gate

Often forgetting there’s

Paradise nearby

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Desert Mother

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I have a sharp pain

In my foot

To distract me

From the headache

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I guess this is

Negotiation with the

Lord

Who made me

And tasks me

In such ways

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I am old

And beyond children

Except the ones

I talk to

In this way

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Whether or not I’m heard

I shall not know

Because I’m here

And they

And you

Are there

x

When I am

In heaven, I still

Might not know how

The children of

Earth have done

Until you are old,

Then sleep

As I have done

And wake to me

And all the rest

Who have been waiting

For you

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And, yes,

We have other things

To do here

So will you

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C L Couch

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Photo by Michael Milverton on Unsplash

Wylie Bay Rd, Bandy Creek WA 6450, Australia, Bandy Creek

Sand Sand Everywhere

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1

saints

(x = space)

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saints

(1 november 2020)

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small-s day

and tomorrow

today is for the living

who keep churches going

tomorrow for the dead

who have done their work

and now have

new assignments

the capital-s people are here

as well and will be busy

on both days

if the doctrine is correct

though they should know

who they are

it’s the other ones

the ones without an alphabet

to support them

it’s, well, you and me

and everyone who’s interested

and busy

not for the sake of busyness

but the sake of her

and him

and animals

and earth

and everyone in need

x

that is the ministry of saints

the living who will

slide over to the next

day for all souls

when it’s time

tragic or a relief

finally to sleep a while

before the call

a clarion perhaps

to wake us all

into revelation and the next course

of energy and will

saints and souls

to keep it intimate for now

and cosmic later on

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c l couch

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photo by nina staer nathan on unsplash

bali, indonesia

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Autumnal Triduum

(x = space)

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Autumnal Triduum

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Tomorrow is All Saints

The day after All Souls

One day celebrates

Those of us alive

The other celebrates

Those who have died

On the latter day,

There will be picnics

By bright gravesides

Special foods

Candies in the shapes of skulls

We’ll visit with our

Relatives gone on

Come back ironically

And joyfully

To check on mortals,

How we’re getting on

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C L Couch

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Photo by Pieter van de Sande on Unsplash

Steamboat Springs, Colorado, Verenigde Staten

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Mischief Day

(x = space)

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Mischief Day

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So far, it’s been

A disorienting day

When I just miss the counter’s edge

Or don’t

When I spill something

Then spill it again

When I can’t keep a lock

Out of my eye

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I imagine I’ll be stubbing toes

Missing the finale

Locating many things

But what I need

Tomorrow will be Hallowe’en

Maybe the veils are thinning out already

And someone let

The imps through first

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C L Couch

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When we grew up, there was Devil’s Night, the night before Hallowe’en.  I understand it’s Mischief Night as well.

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Photo by Dan Gold on Unsplash

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A Book of Second or Third Genesis

(x = space)

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A Book of Second or Third Genesis

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What if Adam had

Eaten first?

On the outside, maybe

Pretty much the same

And on the inside

A righteous change

To history

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Though, of course,

We wouldn’t know it

What we’d know

Is maybe men

Forfending, maybe

Or a readier

Different sort

Of heart from women

x

Forgiveness all around

You see,

It’s possible

And it’s possible

Men would have understood

Something more

Of consequence

x

Hmm, is it possible

The hurt of childbirth

Might have been

Visited the other way?

And to get us through

Each day,

Might men have learned

To ask direction from

The partner species?

Not because of childbirth

But because,

You know,

Each day

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A second book of Genesis

Isn’t around the

Corner up ahead

Unless there is

A fanciful commission

But a forthcoming way to think

That doesn’t hurt

Except in ego’s pocket

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Might help

A world

(a human world)

That is at present torn up

Over truth

A service, by the way,

Of creativity

To fill

A needful break in solid life

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C L Couch

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Photo by atared althaqeb on Unsplash

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Bird-Talk

(x = space)

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Bird-Talk

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It sounded like

The birds at first

The screeching of a

Saw outside

Maybe a leaf-blower

Blower, most likely

It being fall

But either way,

At first the narrow, high-pitched

Range bird-sounds might own

As if to say

Not only that I’m here

But also come here

Like the

First message on

The telephone

Watson, I want you

Or some such

Another day, another range

Of sounds to own:

These are mine

These are mine

(the utterances)

Where are you?

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One bird

Lonely bird

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C L Couch

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Photo by Ynne on Unsplash

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Antiphon

(x = space)

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Antiphon

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I hope it’s

A good day

You might be at dawn or

Well into tomorrow,

However the sun

And moon

Are moving

One place or another

On the world

x

Our count of day

Is relative,

While the actual

Ebb and flow

Of tides and

Of day and night

Move in

Real relationship

Without

Our measure—that’s

The way it is

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And it is good

As I’m hoping for

Your day

To be

Or, in the uncounting

Time of Genesis,

Become

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C L Couch

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Groume – Le Cadran de Dalí, uploaded by Paris 17, CC BY-SA 2.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=23114485

Cadran solaire de Salvador Dalí sur la façade d’un immeuble de la rue Saint-Jacques, réalisé pour des amis qui y habitaient.

(sundial by Dali)

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