Comforted
for Beth
God keep us
Safe
This today
And when that doesn’t happen
Trust in you
Regardless
Knowing that the world
Is faulty
Because it seems
We must have it this way
And maybe all
The cosmos
Is fallen with us
And so
The stakes are high
In human will
So as to appear
Even
Greater than your own
Which is
Not reasonable
Though
You must arrange our will
To be so high
And seemingly
Mighty
Even to
Destroy this world
Though you
Have so many other Earths
You could
Bring along
But keep this
World
Going
Please
So that we might
Get it right
We might learn to mourn
And stop all
Human reasons
There are causes for mourning
Nature might
Forgive us
As we know that your forgiveness
Your pardon
Our salvation
Ever
Might be
In your heart
And then your hand
Extended toward
Our own
C L Couch
Matthew 5:4
Photo by Samsung Memory on Unsplash
Debby
the storm has arrived
our part in it
the water runs
through branches of the trees
as if the branches
sponsor
and organize
a fountain from the sky
out front
it’s hard to see
through screens
and wide drops on the screens
their rivulets
translucent lines
that add
a close-in feeling
to a field
of fog
or mist
the falling rain
all from forever
flash-flooding
well
is flashing
as a warning
today
a kairos
to the organized
who have
a rush hour to maintain
it’s called areal
when the flood
be truly
local
when the streets become temptation
for drivers in cars
sure (drivers
that is)
it can’t really be
that deep
and really is
there are the parts
south and east
mostly
I guess
where like the ever-
rolling-stream washes crucial things away
like lives
and also stays
for days
I’m inside
dry on the second floor
I think
and with power for now
don’t think that I’m
not grateful
for I am
and hope you might be on the better
side of high and dry
as well
busy with bags
or something else or
wet
resting
from it all
I can only hope
straightforwardly
and
yes
and
pray
that you are safe
my dears
c l couch
photo by Ayla Verschueren on Unsplash
Kind Brief Invocation
O God
Be our Tuesday help
Forgive us our
Mistakes
Our other-side-of
Edenness
‘Cause
Sometimes
We let fall
Or we forget
Without malice
But our flaws
Pervade
There is
The Kintsugi of wisdom
Help us fix
And even beautify
The scars
By
Gold understanding
C L Couch
Photo by Brian Pappel on Unsplash
[sun and dew transform—goldify, as it were]
Relegation
O God
Which is an invocation
We’re asking
You
Here and now
And are we aware
Of what we’re asking
No
Liturgically
Demanding
In
Your showing up
You’re God
And if so
The maker
And the real mover
Of
Well
Reality
All-knowing
So we say
And all powerful
Though
It’s easier
Secular
To believe invisible
And far away
That clockmaker
Having
Made and maybe
Set the clock
So long ago
Then left us to
Construct our own
Devices
Maybe
In our skill
Or lack thereof
To negotiate
Someday
To melt that primal clock
As
A Dali-like
Face-making
That is
Poured over parts
Of a parched Earth
But really
As we do things
(except
for invocation)
We could use you
Far away
And so keep our
Maybe fearing you
Also
Distant
And untested
In fact
Also
With cheek
Keeping your name
Inside our word-hoards
Available
For cursing
Or for sex
(is it
to bless the sex)
So
Such is irony
Such are
The ironies
And this is
Such
Strange wondering
As if to place you in a box
Maybe officially
To relegate you there
Until we need you
For
A ceremony
For
A clean and distanced blessing
Now and then
To complement in
Name
(whatever name)
Whatever ritual
We’ve made
Or
Somehow adapted from
The beginning
Words
So whom
Do we invoke
Just now
Whom do we ask
To call
And through our calling
Bring you here
In everything you are
And then
Even
To sing
To benedict
You
Away
Very God
Or distant God
Preeminent
Out of the way
Again
Then maybe
For an hour
Of the clock
Next
Time
Or maybe less
Then dare
We say
Amen
C L Couch
Photo by Visual Karsa on Unsplash
Well and Good
(ironic)
Oh
God
I haven’t thought
So much of you today
Weighed
Down
By my perceptions
The license that I give to stress
And even honest pain that
Doesn’t ask
For this
Forgive me
I guess
Though I’ll be doing it
Again
And
Venial or mortal
I typically can’t
Tell
So that confession
Is not a bust
Though I’m sure
A disappointment
Sigh
What shall I do
To be a servant and
Myself
To serve another
Too
And to serve you
I know
Which should be
First
Sigh again
This might be a loop
If not a cycle of
Post-Edenic rebellion
Which
We set up
As it were
At the start
But is my nature
Always enough
To explain
While I have will
As we always have discretion
Even difficult
In the moment
But I’m sorry
And I’ve thought of you
For seconds
Now
Such a big deal
And should I wake up
In my anchorite cell
Even with a car
For company
A holy cat
By its own calling
Once retrieved
The gray stone
With a specific symbol
On the wall
And a few pages
By the bed
Made out of
Nature
Meaning
Natural things
To know that I’m devout
And here to serve
The people of today
In a world
That maybe strives to rise
Or to wallow
Though I must
Keep the vision
For all of us
That may
Allow ourselves to rise
Maybe through the window
And the windowed world
I have
To look out on the other
To wait
For the inevitable
And then to wait
As in to serve
Responding to their need
And how they
How you
Say it
Then all should know
And you may know
At last
That I am with
All the time
By my own will
My time and style
Though here I am
For now
Small-town
Me for now
With all my errant loves
And wish
I could
Do better
Though for lack of djinn
And also resolution
Remains a wish
Among wishes
For faith
Or for a pony
(again
sorry
and amen)
C L Couch
Photo by José Alejandro Cuffia on Unsplash
(psst, we’re busting out of here tonight—my caption, sorry
and in part of the poem-prayer I’m channeling Saint Julian)
Water Works
I’ve written words
Here are some words
I need
More coffee
Be back soon
(soon-ish)
Back
With coffee
(rounded spoonful
thin rivulet
of count
to six for cream)
with some yogurt
Take a spoonful
Have a sip
Still missing ideas
Something
For you
For today
It is
A still day
To appreciate
Before the world’s noise
Returns
The last spoonful
And another sip
What shall I say
Beyond
Let’s have a day
And then another
Should apocalypse
Agree
Though I must
Say
I don’t spend hours
Worrying over this
And what happens next
For I don’t know
And neither
Do you
Which is a way
To say
Relax
Or at least
Worry over what there is
To worry
Over
Say
The health and joy in things
In the ones
We love especially
And the ones we pray for
Known
Or stranger
And more likely both
Maybe the message is
To pray
For there will be answers
And therein lay the risk
That when we ask
Or even state
There will be hearing
With response
Which might be a mystery
I don’t know
How it works
(you might)
Maybe we cry
Maybe
We stamp our feet for answers
That aren’t coming
On our terms
And there’s
The mystery
For there are answers
And why can’t
We always know them
Maybe best
To leave them in the air
Therein is faith
There in
And on the earth
And underneath
And in the ocean-depths
Is love
For us
(for each other
sourced
overall)
From God
Wash in all this
Clean in this
Our cleanliness ain’t perfect
But in what we may have
Be
Real good
C L Couch
. . .
Fishes and fowls
And beasts and birds
Swam the rivers and the seas,
Roamed the forests and the woods,
And split the air with their wings.
And God said: That's good!
James Weldon Johnson, “The Creation”
Photo by Aaron Burden on Unsplash
How Much God-Complaining Is Allowed
And how does God love us
Well
Perfectly
To start
But it’s so frustrating
Where is the fruit
That rightly comes
Each year
We have waited
Through the brown
And white
And green seasons
Now it’s gold
But you don’t offer
Anything like guarantees
Of harvesting
For faith
You even excoriate
The wealthy
And leaders
Over living well
And
Yes
On taking
Keeping
Hoarding
From the rest
Tossing the peeling
While
Chewing through the fruit
Okay
Maybe you don’t do that
But what do you do
What is promise
And the bounty
From believing
We can’t even see you
Hear you
Touch you
Taste you
And what is left
Smell you
Like incense
That we use divine
In churches
Rising up
As if you were there
To take the tendrils
As requests
While we hope
And choke
(sometimes)
For needful
Responses
Well and good
And not so good
We have to wait
We cannot see
Or hear
And all the rest
And yet you are perfect
Perfect love
Where is that
Please
We need it
(sorry)
Obviously
We’re hungry
We’re thirsty
We’re too much on our own
And where are you
But here somehow and
Please
Show up with parcels
Please
Of all we need
All we need assuage
All we need consume
For life
Even if
We have poor understanding
What that means
Which
Of course
Is why we ask for you
Please show up
I need you
God
Please show
C L Couch
Photo by Lin Leyu on Unsplash
Poor (not as in bad but as in not having) Prayer, Real Prayer—2 poem-prayers
Poor Prayer
Dear God
I’m too pent up
And that’s not healthy
I’m also poor
And could not buy my way
Out of anything
Or even have
The coat I want
Care for my feet
Or shoes
Though you gave me
What you gave me
And keep giving me
Though I’m uncertain
What that is
Not doubtful
But uncertain
For somehow
I know things
A few things
Anyway
But not enough
For sureness
As I breathe
And as I think
And as I move
At last
Into the day
I do understand
You give
With or without expectation
Or do I simply manage
Through the hours
As I may
As I can
With what I have
And like the other poor
With what I must say
I don’t have
Real Prayer
Sigh
What I’m blessed
I do not know
There’s the morning sun
Yellow on green
And branches
Is that
Are these
Gifting for me
Because I’m the only one
Looking out these panes
At this time
Or is there more
Or less
And how are we blessed
Anyway
Not through things
Through gilded anything
(I pause
to drink
and honestly
am grateful for the drink
against the times
that poverty
or sickness
kept coffee from
me)
Or property
That is the Earth’s
Though we believe we’re claimants
Well
The wealthy
Or the mortgage-ridden do
Or could
(I’m not sure
how much possessiveness
they feel)
So what is ours
And what are we blessed with
From your hand
And your say-so
Might we own
Pieces
Of a whole
Or simply lent them
And then leave them
Which seems
The wider lesson
From the form
That living takes
And then
What do you want us
To do
In this next hour
And day
And the life
As a campaign
But to do
Justice
Says your book
And to walk humbly
By the way
And what is that
Are these
Except we know a code
Delivered from a mountain
While we waited
By dancing
Before idols
Though we could
Dance for justice
And humility
I suppose
And do you think
Would you approve
And
Allow for our confusion
Our mistakes
Even our flaws
Until we get them right
Which might
Take all our mortality
Of energy and time
Though
As a God
You will stay with us
I suppose
Even a judge
Should have to watch
And listen
Before judging
Well
I know there’s love in there
Forfending errors
Allowing for the pardoning
Of sins
And moving on
With you
Further abstractly
Farther even physically
On Earth
And in the universe
We observe
And only push our pins
Into
So love us as we move
And when we’re still
Even remembering
Our virtues
Or our lack thereof for pardon
Then to set us on our way
Or leave us to it
As we may
And bidden
You’ll be with us
Ornery
Obstinate
Aggrieved
Trying again
Amen
C L Couch
Photo by Nikola Knezevic on Unsplash
(the thing about an archway is that you go through it—CLC)
formless supplication and God what shall I say to you but help like the Beatles I suppose or anyone inside a boat with water pooled and seeming to rise help and bring some rags and a life preserver the dry-land versions this time and I don’t know what that means and I hope that that’s all right praying for formless things nonetheless to assist because I know you’re not a genie and this is not a trick with a lamp or the words for what I want to get them right or be fooled in what I’m getting or not and I like the raven or the spider in the story but you are not a trickster though you allowed tricks upon yourself with a kind of king for a day and then the awful truth falling on you by the end in a darkened noisy afternoon I’m sorry I’m simply asking for your help and in the grace of it not knowing what that help should be and does it count lack of specificity and I think it might c l couch photo by Martin Brechtl on Unsplash
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