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Revenant

Revenant

(Advent or anytime)

 

This is my country now

We brutalize the families

At the border

And the young who attack them

We can remember what

This did to us in Viet Nam

If we want to

The enemy had wrecked the families

First, and then we had

To finish its work

It was strategy

What is this?

What child is this?

 

For every war we cause with someone

Small,

We make it harder for the Christ child

Or any child

Any family

To come here

 

C L Couch

 

 

Reuters

This photograph by @Reuters shows the United States of America firing tear gas at women and children.

 

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Silent Mortal Flesh

Silent Mortal Flesh

(Advent or any beginning)

 

It’s a mystery

A season

Then eternity

Each day feels eternal, doesn’t it?

The hours move, and we are here

Sometimes there is pleasure

Sometimes there is a burden

They are a gift, though it can be hard

To feel that,

That show a part of what’s to come

But there’s so little to know

For sure

 

What can we be sure of?

That we are here and we were made

We got here somehow, even if it

Seems sensible to call it random

Random is

Part of the mystery, too

 

So many days

So many people

How can Earth bear it all?

But it does

Time, too, that seems to

Draw the seasons out

And give them passage

Through channels of sameness

And difference

 

Someday we’ll know

A mystery like dye removed

From food or fabric

But maybe in a still and quiet hour

In an empty room

 

Let this season start

It’s what we’ve had

It will be new

 

Ponder what is here

And what is descending

Not like something falling

An apple dropped from a tower

But like a bird

Fast or slow

Surely to the ground

 

Begin transacting with the Earth

Whose vibrations in return

Will resonate with who we are

And what we have.

Like mystery,

And, like

Mystery, letting the new season change us

 

C L Couch

 

 

Uploaded by: marabu

http://absfreepic.com/free-photos/download/candlestick-on-the-wood-4000x3000_40197.html

 

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T Time

T Time

 

Broken leaves are on the way

To atomized

The shield of fall is broken in with

Winter

It’s always a time of change

Don’t we know that?

 

I like my rituals

And of one kind or another

Know we need them

 

But retrograde is for the Earth

In winter’s northern

Declination

We can’t live angling back

We’ll only know eternity ahead

It’s our way

Don’t like it, take it up with God

If, tremulous, you can ask about the manners

In creation

 

Motion lives

Rest, that’s important

Forward, then, is not that way

But this

 

C L Couch

 

 

By 松岡明芳 – 松岡明芳, CC BY 3.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=11701874

 

1

Turning Time

Turning Time

 

It’s late in October, isn’t it

The season soon enough will be half over

No other season calls to itself so much

In northern parts at least, everything to say

We’re done for now

Cover us and let us rest

Autumnal residents

October people

 

C L Couch

 

 

Vincent van Gogh – Les Alyscamps: Falling Autumn Leaves 1888

Public Domain

 

2

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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A Season with God

A Season with God

 

I don’t know what happens next

Neither do you

Most of you

I know the lore

I have faith

I think we’re made for now

To think mostly of now

Which is maybe why

Heaven is so distant

And raked over with misunderstanding

Like planting the wrong seeds

Allowing the weeds to grow

Until the harvest

When, you know, wheat and chaff

 

Is there more to say

What can answer doubt

Satisfy speculation

Excoriate cynical perspective

The thing is that

All these things are good

Curiosity deserves an elevation

If security is surrendered on the inside

Outer life might wreck from time to time

Inside life rebuilt time and again

The surgery of synthesis

 

Yesterday, today, tomorrow

Like or as the words by G or S, this kind

Of time

Creeps apace

And should we not be shattered

By bombs or disbelief

The day before takes root

Today become a seed

Tomorrow promises a crop

 

Don’t leave it here

I’d like to meet you later on

And, you know, be met

When time is all time

All days all at once

 

C L Couch

 

 

Season Wallpapers 2 – 1920 X 1200 | stmed.net

stmed.net

 

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dimanche

dimanche

 

tomorrow,

lundi gras

because the season is

a day a piece

but excess sometimes lead to excess

in a binary way

 

so what if Sunday earns

in all quarterly respect

some quiet

inhalation

 

before the time

of beads

of jazz

of worldly processions

(you tell me)

exhales

 

c l couch

 

http://www.mardigras.com/news/2010/01/mardi_gras_bound_learn_about_b.html

 

0

Revolution

Revolution

(tracing the season’s sunlight)

 

The day descends

While shadows rise

Late-year days are like this

We notice early darkness

 

C L Couch

0

Fall into Night

Fall into Night

 

Having slept late,

Perforce,

To my condition

 

It’s too soon

Now, the three-o’clock

Time when

The day turns

As it must

Toward autumnal

Night

 

And we notice,

If subcutaneous,

The knowing

Sense of

This;

 

Inside autumn leaves

We face

Alternatives:

 

To go dry-wilting

Into brown days

Or to

 

Flame like novae

 

In glory of

Expiring red,

Yellow tears or

Tears,*

Last bright orange

Bleeding

 

Dwindling into

Joyful or stressed

Evenings

Of our

Distinctive seasons

 

 

*reader’s choice

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