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Younger

Younger

 

Once I went out west

Well, twice I guess

The first time I was two

I do have memories

I dreamed about the second time

Last night

Only I went there now

Knowing what I knew

So that I might avoid mistakes

And, you now, I did

 

I’ve heard it said I wouldn’t change a thing

I would change so many things

Sometimes to thwart agenda

Mostly to get it right

To keep the pain from happening

So much

 

If that would daunt a butterfly or upset

The schedule of tsunami,

Then it’s good I don’t have the talent

But I would like to fox many things

Or preventively

Offer something better in the first place

For all concerned

Color me uninteresting

I would dull the pain

Treat the wound by having it

Not happen

 

C L Couch

 

 

Pexels / 9161 images

https://pixabay.com/en/cacti-flora-flowers-pot-pot-plants-1846147/

 

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Life in the Hermitage

Life in the Hermitage

 

I know I teach too much

Old habit

Sometimes it’s prophecy, but

The voice is mine

I don’t speak with any authority

Come down, or come up,

From God

 

Sometimes I think certain things belong

Together

That’s poetry

 

I washed a few dishes in my small sink

I looked into the new year’s sky

It’s gray

That seems right

A January pallet

 

C L Couch

 

 

Photo by Craig Whitehead on Unsplash

 

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Wishful

Wishful

 

The moon is out there somewhere

Sailing ‘round the Earth

We are here, wishing we could go

 

Sign up for a lunar voyage

Take a chance among the stars

Maybe nothing

Maybe treasure

Worth it, we think

Earthbound

 

C L Couch

 

 

Noupload / 284 images

https://pixabay.com/en/night-full-moon-ship-lake-ocean-2860531/

 

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Visible and Invisible

Visible and Invisible

 

The Lord sings,

and there’s a world.

The Spirit shimmers, and love

all inspires.

The Child touches one and then another,

and everything is better.

Healing and teaching,

death and resurrection.

 

There are other personages

in other stories.

I like well enough this tale of mine, which

comes from a people I must own.  I am

content mostly to do so.

 

I want to learn more and more:

to hear the single notes

that rise into a melody

of sacred time

for sacred dance.

 

And everything is better.

 

C L Couch

 

 

CC BY-SA 2.0 fr, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=125333

English: Coptic crosses in Philae Temple of Isis. Aswan, Egypt.
Français : Autel chrétien dans à l’intérieur du temple d’Isis à Philaé. Assouan, Égypte
Image taken by Gilles RENAULT
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Two Children Die in Border Custody

Two Children Die in Border Custody

 

Two children from another country

Died because they were in the USA

They didn’t break in; there was no crime

They were busy being children

 

This happened famously

How many are dying quietly

 

Security is one thing

Incompetent security another

Are the agents uncaring in their job

I do not know

But it’s the policymakers, our surrogates

And advocates, who show less

Wisdom based on no compassion

 

If it were your child

But it’s not

But if it were

But it would never be

Really, you never think the broad sweep

Of a killing blade might not reach

You or yours

 

Such randomness in civil violence

Such lack of specific concern

Will the impersonal never touch the personal

Are you not affected

Aren’t we all

 

If not for fear of something awful

Let’s turn to the cause of something really good

We say we like life

Let’s like it, then

Cherish it, protect it

Let it go when it’s time

In the ordinariness of the divine

 

Let’s not make tragedy

We say we like free will

Be that democracy

That has made tyrants weep

Despots weak

Bullies to give up the fight

Or lose any place work having

 

I’ve heard us say that we like children

That we care for health, safety

Education

Family

I sound like a poster, now

How about this one, I Want You

Or We Can Do It

 

C L Couch

 

https://abc7chicago.com/2nd-guatemalan-child-dies-in-us-custody;-medical-checks-ordered/4968761/

 

Guatemalan boy, 8, dies in US custody on Christmas Eve – CNN

https://www.cnn.com/2018/12/25/us/guatemalan-boy-dies-in-us-custody/index.html 3 days ago … … Guatemalan boy has died in the custody of US Customs and Border … second Guatemalan child to die in the agency’s custody this month.

‘A Breaking Point’: Second Child’s Death Prompts New Procedures for …

https://www.nytimes.com/2018/12/26/us/felipe-alonzo-gomez-customs-border-patrol.html 2 days ago … “Moving forward, all children will receive a more thorough hands-on …. Jakelin Caal Maquin, a 7-year-old girl, died in Border Patrol custody …

 

note

The agencies that can help most personally and astutely will lose their funding in the current shutdown.

 

(image)

A “Rosie” working on the A-31 Vengeance bomber in Nashville, Tennessee (1943)

Alfred T. Palmer – This image is available from the United States Library of Congress‘s Prints and Photographs division under the digital ID fsac.1a35371.

Public Domain

 

1

Perennial

Perennial

 

I hope you have a really good day

I’m not sure, I imagine it’s

A special day somewhere

Someone is having an honored time

Something that’s been done before

And should be done again

 

Some might say we’ll get it right next time

Others not so worked up with perfection

Look at all the nothing we don’t have

But it sure is good

That we’ll all here together

 

Is that the meaning in the ritual?

We do it together

And in less formal time

We talk about it afterward

 

Until the next occasion it might, or must, happen

Again

And anew

 

It may sound an invitation to

All dullness

Even with some innovation

As things evolve

Sometimes it’s rechercher du temps perdu

But like an actor’s good performance

A freshness is deserved each time

Even stepping back

 

So that remembrance is sweet

And so are you

And so, for a change, am I

 

C L Couch

 

 

By Chenspec – Own work, CC BY-SA 4.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=52413744

 

(“Sonnet 30,” William Shakespeare

À la Rechercher du Temps Perdu, Marcel Proust)

 

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Second Day of Christmas

Second Day of Christmas

(Boxing Day)

 

Boxing Day

I heard it was British

And in a loosely associated way

Thought maybe it involved

Kangaroos, which

I had seen boxing in cartoons

 

I gather now

The boxes have to do with gifts

Since this is the day the British

Present each other with, well, presents

 

I guess for them it is as well

The second day of Christmas

Two turtledoves

I’m not sure when the Yule log is lit

Yesterday?  The first?  The sixth of January,

Twelfth Night?

The first day when it’s cold?

 

And mummers,

Strangely costumed people—

Who became carolers

Or was it the carolers who transformed?

I’ve seen the costumes

There is a parade in Philadelphia

Some are ridiculous

Some are the occult totemized

What’s going on?

 

These are my people

The English and the Irish

The Scots and the Welsh

They started coming here

In the fifteenth century

Through to a couple of generations ago

Did they want to get away from

All that?  Or

Was it their own change

In what they knew to have?

 

I was a WASP

I am from Kentucky, Pennsylvania, and Ohio

With a brief adventure in

California

I am too old for young adventures now

Maybe one more expedition with

The older soldiers of Ulysses

By way of Tennyson

 

Maybe my gift today will be

A little understanding

Where I was

Who I am

Who might I be

As I am

For you

 

C L Couch

 

 

By Peretz Partensky from San Francisco, USA – White Doves at the Blue Mosque, CC BY-SA 2.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=24568193

 

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to readers, then a poem

I hope it is a holiday of blessings for you, regardless of tradition or having no tradition.  It’s a time when at least we speak to peace on Earth, which means more people think about it, if only in reaction.  And reactive thought can realized in action.

I’m still dealing with new pain, and I hardly sleep at night (from old pain and the new).  I’m sorry, this makes me less communicative than I’d so much like to be.  I’m trying some new medication.  Maybe that will provide enough amelioration.

I wish and pray for you a Merry Christmas, leading to the start of what will be a Happy New Year.

Christopher

 

Let Earth

(end of Advent, Christmas Eve or Christmas day, or, you know, anytime)

 

And where is joy?

It’s here

 

Depending on your mood

Or how you’re treated

How you treat someone else

You may not see it

The wrong ones will not pay attention

The ones who are wronged will

Because they must

It often goes this way

With wisdom to

Make a choice,

A pledge to difference

 

If you can,

In all moods choose joy

If you can’t, maybe joy will find you

If not, we’ll have to wait

Endure

‘Til there is allowance

And recourse

 

Sorry if that’s hollow

Everything cannot be fixed

In a day

A year

And not a moment

But where is joy?

It’s here

If within opacity like crystals in

The tube of a kaleidoscope

But made of a magic kind of gem that

Someday must crash through

 

Into release

A new promise of day

Without involvement of the persecutor

With unbound chances

To live openly and well

 

A day of birth

Such as this one

 

C L Couch

 

Larisa-K / 471 images

https://pixabay.com/en/winter-patterns-freezes-design-20135/

 

2

As We Are, No Other

As We Are, No Other

(Christmas Eve, anytime)

 

This is a good surprise

We are invited to a dance

And we don’t have to know

Anything about steps or rhythm

Or the key of the orchestra

 

It’s a party, too

All we have to do to respond

Is see the card

In leaves or

Hear the invitation in the branches’

Song to sky

 

It’s for a birthday, yes

Don’t worry about timing

The child knows of better things

And will manage precision for you

 

We have this chance

Will it come again?

Yes, I think so

But we have it

Why not take part now?

 

Mister Dickens claimed

A few pounds make us happy

So Fezziwig will close the shop

And take the silent cost

In that

And pay for decorations, too

 

We might have to be our own accountants

White elephants might attend

(maybe black cats

zebras to negotiate)

There might be stone soup for supper

Served in lucky pots

Hey, but it’s a party

 

And if we own nothing

All the better for arriving

What do newborns have,

And how welcome are they?

 

It’s a party without consequences,

Because we will behave

Enjoying the relief of good, clean fun,

Everyone welcome

 

The birds will sing

If we don’t want to

And sing, anyway

Nature speaks in volumes

It’s miracle

We could provide the miracle in

Listening

 

Enjoy it all

Bring what you have

Or nothing

Remembering that at this kind of

Festival,

We are the gifts

 

C L Couch

 

 

note

White elephant is a metaphor from the USA and Britain, based on Asian custom (with real elephants).

 

cocoparisienne / 2607 images

https://pixabay.com/en/elephant-skin-elephant-245071/

 

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