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prophets

I’m Sure You Have Such Days

Processionals

(x = space)

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take away the confessional and informative emendations and there’s one poem here with endings like certain music selections

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Processionals

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I think

Often of David

Of a picture

I have seen

Or made up

It’s when the ark

Is brought into

Jerusalem

And it’s a triumph

A kind of victory

x

And I think of David

Young

(and was he young)

Dancing

Before the ark

Not wearing much

But he’s king

And he arranged all this

And so

The instruments

Let play

And maybe favorites

Follow suit

x

I see light colors

As if this were a desert scene

Done as a picture

With pastels

You know

I think I figure the hair

On David

From the statue by

Michelangelo

x

Processions are important

He and they

Had to have one

Because the ark

Would have a home

Forever

Well

At least for generations

(I should

look this up

it might be before

Absalom)

But what do we know

Today is forever

And the

Ark is here

x

And Jesus came

Into Jerusalem

And a procession

Was needed

And so it was

Arranged

In humility

And somehow awesome

Awful majesty

x

C L Couch

x

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I worked on this scene before as a draft; I have in mind I didn’t finish it, and this time I did; but if the other work appeared and I forgot, then I apologize for the repetition—CLC

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and a bit more (for free)

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a coda

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David was a shepherd

He was a king

He was loved by God

As either

So are you

Loved by God

For either

Any

Way

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Photo by Alberico Bartoccini on Unsplash

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(and here’s the lesson should you need one

coda 2

that was D. S.

this is D. C.)

x

Jesus came

Into Jerusalem

Like the ark

Meaning a triumph

Victory

For a home people

Battling

To keep a promise

x

And like the ark

Is lost

Defeat

And sacrifice

Through lack of faith

(bad kings—you may

look it up)

And so sacrilege

And a new needed

Promise

Follows

(read the prophets)

For restoration

Of the people

x

Turns out

It’s Israel

And all of us

Redeemed

Through this

Second coming

Triumph

Then sacrifice

This time as well

And

Cosmically speaking

Greater

All the world

And how far out

On the edge

x

With destruction

Turned to joy

With all our flaws intact

Until a final resurrection

That will keep

Us and the world

Intact

And better

And forever

x

Stone not only

Rolled away

But smashed

Here endeth

And look

And listen

Smell

And taste

And touch

This is the start

And we might think we do

But we don’t know

What’s next

x

Speak for a Nation

(x = space)

x

x

Speak for a Nation

x

Receiving a message from the Lord

was rare in those days; revelatory

visions were infrequent.

(1 Samuel 3:1b)

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Prophets have jobs

Usually doing something else

Until the words are called for,

Until the wind

Blows through

Every atom

We think of them as crazy,

But they’re not

There is relentless urgency

Is all

Repent, while you’re alive

Don’t wait for judgment

And the fire

Leaders, most of all

You are double-cursed

If you do it wrong

Return to the temple

Pray in litany

And all humility

For a change and

For a change,

Recovering the modesty

In service that dressed you

Before fame

x

We think they’re crazy, sometimes

Maybe they are

From time to time

But there is authenticity

And love of service,

Such as those in stadiums

At podiums

Behind the microphones

Must have

x

C L Couch

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Photo by Pavel Brodsky on Unsplash

A slow shutter-speed rendition of a BBQ fire.

Meron Mountain

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(New English Translation

verse indentations by me)

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Make Like Knights, Just

Make Like Knights, Just

 

Dames or sirs

Let’s all be one or the other name

Or come up with a new one

For those whose errantry

Takes on charges toward an

Earth of fairness,

and all her people one

I’m not saying blood or rank

Far from it

Though blood might be the cost,

 

Which is instantly ennobled

On contact with an air, foul or fair

Split from flesh while questing after

Nothing more than

Quotidian liberty,

The balance that we’ve

Sometimes heard

Our prophets talk about

 

C L Couch

 

 

(image)

Rosa Parks with King, 1955

National Archives and Records Administration Records of the U.S. Information Agency Record Group

 

(cited)

“Turn Back, O Man, Forswear Thy Foolish Ways,” a hymn by Clifford Bax (1886 – 1962)

 

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