[3 haiku about (coastal) land and water]
dawn in its first hour
gray hour at the ocean sings
gulls cry food for praise
knowing god looks out
from shore with the church folk there
looks back too through waves
gold rise red to blue
east coast sun sets into land
western sun in sea
c l couch
(3 haiku about (coastal) land and water, in part because I haven’t been to the ocean in a while; I mean for each poem to stand as each, though they are tied as well)
photo by René Molenkamp on Unsplash
(x = space)
x
x
Hills
x
The hills roll on
Our wheels
Over them
While in the wagons ride
Our beating hearts
And hopeful
Heads
For visioning
x
It is a caravan
Perhaps
While we stop
Now and then
For swapping stories
How it’s going
Checking
Wheels and harnesses
How are our victuals
Holding out
Against a destination
Once the hills
Should cease
And we are on the plain
Then stopping
Standing
By a sea of judgment
And also
All our joy
x
C L Couch
x
x
Photo by Randy Fath on Unsplash
“Joe on the way home…”
x
(x = space)
x
x
Treading Dawn
x
First I think upon
The violet sail
Then the dragon’s head
That sees
Where we are going
But keeps its secrets
Then to notice that
The ship is moving
In the picture
Feel the air
Taste the air
It tastes of salt
Pure crystals from Narnia
Or a zone of it
Or the unbounded sea
x
It’s wet
I’m wet
And there it is
The last allowance
The rooms fills
We leave the world
To go to this one
However attached
Unattached
(its own)
To fall upon the deck
Or into the water
The kindly crew will help
Though there have
Been enemies
Fallen from outside
x
How might I prove
Intent?
Salute somehow?
That will not be enough
With the ship
We undulate
Upon the sea
While they make up their minds
My pockets empty
No weapons
(that might help)
I’ll sit here
On the melodious wooden deck
A while
While they decide
And should this be the start
Of another chapter
Either way
x
C L Couch
x
x
The Voyage of the Dawn Treader by C. S. Lewis, third chronicle of Narnia
x
Photo by Raimond Klavins on Unsplash
The frigate Shtandart in calm weather.
x
After
When everything is done
With all the apples and the oranges
The sixes and the sevens
All the things that didn’t merit
Placing on a scale
Of our making
You and I will look out over
A silver sea
Hoping to see a fin or tail
The nose of something
Welcoming that says,
There’s still living here
We’ll hope for the best
Skip fearing for the worst
There will be life or won’t be
Maybe we’ll have
A part in it
In spite of all our peers have done
We can live along the edge
Recalling everything behind
Until
All memory has changed
Opposites are lived out
As they should be
Amen
C L Couch
Photo by Thomas Lipke on Unsplash
Sailcone’s Grizzly Bear Lodge, Mount Waddington A, Britisch-Kolumbien, Kanada Columbia Canada
Pacific white-sided dolphin (Lagenorhynchus obliquidens)
Here’s News (and a Haibun)
(1)
Here are three news leads from The Guardian:
The United Nations has for the first time signalled its “human rights obligation” over the deadly cholera outbreak in Haiti that has claimed the lives of at least 30,000 people.
‘It’s only working for the white kids’: American soccer’s diversity problem [headline]
Yesterday, a report came out that said more than 1,000 migrants and refugees have died just in the last week while crossing the Mediterranean.
(2)
Everyone on all sides of things is falling down. UN peacekeeping. Soccer, the world’s sport. Migrants we don’t count who die. Doesn’t help my own precarious feelings about stability or sanity in the world. Doesn’t help the fragility in me or mine. On this side of apocalypse (only frightening for some), what might we save? In order to retain poetics, I’ve refrained from news of politics today. I doubt anymore the answer’s there.
(3)
Black box of the plane
Black box of refugee’s boat
Black box of sea’s depths
clcouch123 
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