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seasons

Sleeper Awake

(x = space)

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Sleeper Awake

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It’s 69 degrees

(Fahrenheit)

At (twelve-oh-five, we say)

12:05

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Fall arrives

And hobbits,

The birthdays

Of the Bagginses

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New season

With an equinox

Autumnal

To complement

The vernal

By a half,

Half a year,

Half a world

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We tilt into another

And existentially

A new one

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We have not had

Today

Or this changing

Of the Earth

Around 11

Post-meridian

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Here is the same season

As a new one,

New seconds

Newly breathed

Into hours

And an age

Collectively

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Spring to the south,

Autumn

To the north where

Where there

Might be dragons

In their lairs.

Then

We bring in cold air

And awaken them

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We think fall

Might be the readiness

For freezing,

Sleeping winter;

And yet

(like new school years

for young ones

and for teachers)

Here and now

The adventure,

The quest

Might begin

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C L Couch

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Photo by Hans Isaacson on Unsplash

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Mortal Timing

(x = space)

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Mortal Timing

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It’s cool today

Thank goodness

I am thankful

I guess I can’t haiku this

No artful three-line

Praise

Or only observation

Out of nature

Yet nature should be thanked

We are lucky in this hemisphere

Just now

North enough

And south enough

(ecumenically)

Praise fall’s invocation

Of bright colors

Praise the God

Who shows us grace

With autumn

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Someday

The seasons mesh

Their virtues celebrating

All together

How trees will bear fall colors

While serving new life below

As spring

And summer

Under winter’s cover

We don’t know

(maybe there will be quarters of

seasons’ perfection)

But it is heaven

And new Earth

And these miracles will work

Like clear gold

In the streets of

New Jerusalem

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C L Couch

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The twelve gates were twelve pearls, each made of a single pearl.  The great street of the city was of gold, as pure as transparent glass.

Revelation 21:21

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Photo by Steven Cordes on Unsplash

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Peace to You

Now are the times of Orthodox Easter, Passover, and Ramadan.  Praying for blessings to all the faithful.

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Peace to You

(John 20 and elsewhere)

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Peace to you

The teacher showed up saying

Peace

If God appeared

In the room

We were in

Then words of peace

Might be needed

To still our hearts

And keep them working

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God shows up

In the room

Alive in every way

(later we’ll share meals)

Except in expectation

For we had thought

Never to see

Or hear the words again

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Scars from nails

And a spear

Maybe the marks of thorns

On the brow

God appears again

God with us again

Immanuel

The end of

Maranatha

Folk at the center of the world

May suggest

While those outlying

Hear the story

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There is life again

Three days’ waiting

We weren’t counting

We forgot

All prophecy

And understanding

Thomas,

God lives again

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C L Couch

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Cross with Dove and Red Cloth in Pirenopolis, Brazil

Photo by Emily Crawford on Unsplash

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Lean-To

(x = space)

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Lean-To

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Earth tilts

Unlike pinball

The other way

Then tilts

The other way

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We light fires

To appease

So that the axis

Listens

Turns us back

To growing seasons

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We’ll have winter

Now

While they have

Summer

The world is made

Of complements

As well as

Paradox

Winter summer,

Equator and the poles

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A world on which

All things hold

That must hold

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Our home

Embraces opposites

In seasons

In tilting one way

Then the other

In value for us all

And each one

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C L Couch

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Sunrise in Iceland 11:19 this morning.

Hafsteinn Robertsson from Hafnarfjordur, Iceland – Winter Solstice, CC BY 2.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=73751614

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Love Speaks

(x = space)

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Love Speaks

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I don’t think I’m crazy

When I think about

Love speaking

Love speaking through

Moving water

Shakespeare’s gentle rain

Or more literally

Through the tap

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Love speaks

Through wind

Yes, the angry kind

Also the zephyr when it’s gentle

Or through anyone’s

Exhalation

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Love speaks through the ground

I don’t mean in earthquake

Though that’s true

As much as through the

Increments of growth

We cannot see

In roots below

And plants above

And with accompaniment

Of horses’ hooves

And deer

Or

Smaller critters

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Love speaks

Through the seasons

Love speaks through you

I should listen

I really should listen

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C L Couch

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Blessed is the season which engages the whole world in a conspiracy of love.

—Hamilton Wright Mabie

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Photo by Christophe Maertens on Unsplash

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Slight Season

(x = space)

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Slight Season

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The sun is out

I should be going to it

There might be chill

It might be fall

At last

Not too soon to winter, please,

Which is the trouble

With the seasons in-between

Their timing seems so fragile

When

Arriving

Surprising, when it seems

They stay a good, long while

Leaving the severities

To themselves

And their own time

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C L Couch

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Photo by Jana Shnipelson on Unsplash

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Machine Languages

(x = space)

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Machine Languages

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Too much heat

A killing metaphor

But for now

I have the benefit of machines

The kind that cool,

The kind that distract

I’m lucky

Don’t I know it

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In several months

I’ll need machines

The other way

And won’t I know it

To warm my food

To warm the rest of me

Against a northern

Winter

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I have to thank machines

That bide my time

That give me time

To heal

To forget

To move through seasons

In a constant state

Like quicksilver

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Like the cardinal

That, up here,

Flies through seasons

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C L Couch

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Cardinal diving down from tree.

Photo by gerhard crous on Unsplash

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Solstice Properties

(x = space)

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Solstice Properties

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Stonehenge is a solstice

Property,

As is Newgrange,

Machu Pichu,

And anywhere there is

A sacred pointer for

The movement

Of the sun

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Earth will now start

To tip the other way,

Technically; we enter

The winter-half

Of the year

While officially (as we are

official to ourselves),

Summertime has only

Begun

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I guess I’ve

Thought about this

Quandary for a while

And wondered about

Other people’s

Calendars—after all,

Shouldn’t this be the

Halfway point of

Summer?  And do we not

In certain ways and places

Call these days

Midsummer?  The mix

Of math and culture in me

Doesn’t understand

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But it’s official,

And I hope this is a

Pleasant season for you;

We certainly need one

And the next season

Could be pleasant,

Too, for all our weariness,

For those who have

Persevered

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C L Couch

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Photo by Adrien Aletti on Unsplash

Ottawa, ON, Canada

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Favor Hesiod

(x = space)

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Favor Hesiod

(writer of Theogony)

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Remember

Myths aren’t lies

That’s for conversation

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Fables are

For teaching, which means

They are

For learning

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The more fantastic

Stretches

With gods and

Agencies for gods

And such

Are a try

At understanding

Truth to questions

Without

Conversation’s answers

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What is time?

Why are their seasons?

Why is this

A good year?

What about

The next one?

What happens after

Death?  What is our

Purpose while we’re here?

How might we live

With passion?

Why do we have it

In the first place?

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Not lies

But tries at truth

Without the words

Or understanding

Motivations of

Forces outside

Ourselves and

Ourselves

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What happens when

Someone climbs

Parnassus or Olympus

Has a reason, too,

And a story

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For all we’re told

And tell ourselves

Old stories are foolish

If not stupid,

We still ask questions,

Same questions

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Some answers

Will be chemical

Now,

But elements

Persist above

The table in a

Ring of sky

(or under

Earth)

That we cannot find

For all our wishing

All our striving

All our talking

For a purpose

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So we return to stories

And make new ones

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C L Couch

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Theogony, myths about gods, creation, and more

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A Rendition of Life on Planet Earth

https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=6638499

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