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And Does It Take a Sabbath Day

And Does It Take a Sabbath Day

 

And does it take a sabbath day

To have a larger thought

To encounter feeling that goes

‘Round the world

 

Maybe it does

Though the Lord knows

I can make my own

And, like entitlement, could call it

Anything I want

Though usually it’s Friday

Maybe Thursday

 

I used to retreat and rearranged the week

I’d go out on Thursday afternoon

Stay through the night

Often not sleeping, maybe by intent

My own dark night of the soul

Then I’d have Friday to go downstairs

To meet with the director

We’d talk of Francis and Gerald May

And would I train as he did

So far, I haven’t done so

 

All that has ended, as I guess it had to

Not because of miffed occasions

I’m not sure we ever had a one of those

But because mortality calls unevenly

And those of us are left

To fill in steps like pulling in

Loose lines on board we weren’t expecting

Never are

 

I must do now for me

Chaos, order

Void, abundance

I don’t arrange these very well

But they are big

Like large thoughts on a sabbath day

Friday or whenever

 

I must find my own way home

Find more company than this

Than these

Sensations, wishes, little more

Not to fill in emptiness

But something hale to

Place over the pain

Like a well-timed blanket

On a cold, cold winter day

 

When I couldn’t go out, anyway

To find the house above the creek

On made-up sabbath days

 

C L Couch

 

 

http://12footcwc.org/

 

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Clergy Sex Abuse

Clergy Sex Abuse

 

I don’t know how to sound

Holier than thou

When thou art rancid hate

And destruction of a soul

 

It happened to me

It happened to you

I know some of the names

Maybe you do, too

 

They truck with intimacy

Allowing it to slip from God

Into human spirits

Trusting

Even to think the pastor boring

Well, there is another kind

 

Earth weeps enough

And why would God need more tears

From God’s own

Relegated

Abrogated

To the underside of things

Unto the part of us that’s shocked

Broken

Alone

 

C L Couch

 

 

Anil Kumar

HeartBroken – Tears are the Baptism of Soul

 

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An Eighth Day

An Eighth Day

 

If we were given

an extra day,

would we play?

 

It if were announced,

a day that wouldn’t count

for acquisition,

a gift of food and air

and water,

a day when no one could

wage war

or victimize another,

would we play?

 

Would some say

not me,

I’m too urgent,

I have to impress,

nature to command,

so many things to hoard

and wielding bellicose conversation,

I will not play.

 

Well, go home, then.  You may

have a room in which to

exist; nothing

will work, and there will be

no toys.

 

Angels will referee, if need be,

though mainly they’ll be waiting

by the fields, near the water,

at the table in the

houses that have

family rooms

 

to help, to pass out balls and

gloves and discs that fly,

to spread out the board, play-cash,

and tokens

while everyone gets the piece

they want to play.

 

Everyone gets chosen

everyone feels first

everyone gets a turn;

agendas are released

and for a change, all genders

and colors are assets like

winning extra turns.

 

The cosmos will keep quiet,

slide over to tomorrow.

When it’s time, we’ll catch up fine.

After our eighth day

for play.

 

C L Couch

 

 

Nyla Moss, an eighth grader at Polaris Charter Academy, plays at Kells Park in Chicago’s West Humboldt Park neighborhood.

Andrew Gill/WBEZ

For West Side Students, Playing Outside Is Protesting Against Gun Violence

Linda Lutton

May 26, 2017

https://www.wbez.org/shows/wbez-news/for-west-side-students-playing-outside-is-protesting-against-gun-violence/3f7a4cb7-ec1c-4cc4-817e-3ee5e5ca865a

 

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Treasure Trove

Treasure Trove

 

We’re surrounded by things

Not always ours

But I think it’s good

 

Those who can have things

Everyone cannot afford acquiring

Maybe should be the subject of

Our conversation

 

Things mean ownership,

And ownership ties us to life

We can go too far

As so many of us do, for

 

Things don’t deserve attachment

That is treasure-madness

Everything is temporary, after all

 

I sit in a corner of my life

And wish we could talk in person

Having a drink in a favorite cup

You find what I provide acceptable

We hold forth, even outside cyberspace

And maybe make notes

After

 

We have a fine time

Promising another,

Knowing we will follow through

And we own a little more

Now having something of the strength

Of normal wealth

 

C L Couch

 

 

http://thelorienlegacies.wikia.com/wiki/The_Lorien_Legacies_Wiki

 

 

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Sum-sum-summertime

Sum-sum-summertime

(summing up a season)

 

It’s the end of summer

And I think of picnics

And camping out and camping

Whose root word means

Field, I think

I think of all the food I had

Outdoors

And mostly enjoyed

And it makes me wonder about all

The dirt I’ve eaten

How many pounds by the end

Of each lifetime

Several pounds, I’m sure

Maybe more

I don’t mean to be gross

I don’t think it is

For good or ill, we inhale the planet

We consume its parts

I don’t mean a gluttony

But symbiosis

We need each other, the Earth and I

We are a reason for each other

An empty Earth does little good

Less so an absent home

In any season

 

C L Couch

 

 

the image is or was from the site of New Hampshire State Parks; while there are many fine images there, I couldn’t find this one of them

The New Hampshire Division of Parks and Recreation : Camping

 

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If Music Be

If Music Be

 

The life of a conductor

Intensity in perfect clothes

The privilege of

Moods

A reason for performance

 

I used to attend

I used to direct

I enjoyed the motion

In the rhythm of the spheres

 

So what shall we do

Have a romantic ending

After a crisis of crescendo

A denouement that tells us that

The story’s over

Soon will be time to go home

 

I think that sounds right

Let the music take us

Through

The passages

The energy

The final resolutions

Then, you know,

The end

 

C L Couch

 

 

https://www.kusc.org/culture/out-and-about-blog/john-mauceri-leonard-bernstein/

image there without specific credit but a good story about Bernstein and legacy

 

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Saint Peter on a Sunday Afternoon

Saint Peter on a Sunday Afternoon

 

The Shoes of the Fisherman

Is on TV

I doubt I can help but watch

An old film, yes

I imagine too stodgy and too staid

For a reboot

I’m relieved

I should read the novel

But the movie engages viscerally

As sometimes movies do engage us

And we with them

A pope is elected

Cyril, first from Russia

In the Cold War

And for all time

 

As I understand the story

Cyril came to Russia with Methodius

Wanting eagerly to share the Gospel story

And found

So many tribes at war

First, then, they imposed a language

So that all might speak and

Might be heard

Cyrillic

 

Sounds mythical,

I know

For our time, an allegory

 

Rome is eternal, so they say

And the Vatican seems that way as well

I wonder

The church is not the pope

It is the people

This is not new teaching

A billion people

I could be one of them

 

C L Couch

 

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Monkishness

Monkishness

 

Is there a simple way to live

Without complexities that

Do not matter

I suppose that would be a start

What about what

I have to stay involved with

Family

Taxes

Friendships

Car trouble

Clothing choices

What to drink

What to drink from

How to prepare food

How to learn to do that

Are these things that anyone else

Worries about

 

I don’t have much already

What few things I have

I’d like to like

I guess

Like the shape and texture

Like what it has me think about

Or helps me to think about

Nothing at all

 

I don’t know, what’s possible

So much is unsettled

So much is teased

So many things call out

Let us draw you in—we are

Meaning here

Join us

You won’t be lonely anymore

There are many like us

With us

Small prices to pay

 

Is this what it means to be a person

To face complexities and

Find a way

While everything’s a mess

And we don’t know how to clean

Because we forgot

 

Simplicity does not mean alone

 

C L Couch

 

 

http://www.poorclares.org/do-nuns-have-fun/

Do Nuns Have Fun?

yes, they do

 

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The Big Quiet

The Big Quiet

 

Was everything else

Set here first

Slathered on by gravity

By passes and twirls

Of heat and carbon

Round an axis circling a

Toddler sun

Looking for a place to stay

Bending away

From solar majesty

The attendance who wants

Some sovereignty if

Only in degrees

 

Something presses in the middle

Like clay inside a fist

And round and round

Flow minerals

Red and black turns of

Earth that

Slip-slide curved, over and

Under

Until there is a kind of magnetism

From constitution

Settling, not settling

And over which

Into

Water arrives

 

And after managing an arrangement

Between the land and sea,

It’s time for seething

Into untoward life

Tomorrow there’s be more

For now, it’s just a cell or two

That impulses into

The world

And now will rest to take a breath

Throughout the darkness spell

For now it is decreed

A night and day

 

C L Couch

 

 

primordial soup – daily doodle 046

March 29, 2018

Brain Blinks

by Don Whitaker

 

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