Truer than Stone Is True
(our flesh-and-spirit undertaking)
God of the moment
Of the now
That’s
Split so small
It might
Take an infinity
To
Undertake
Let alone
To explain
To each
And all
Ready
And unready
Though it seems
That
We get what we get
Passages
For understanding
A world to get
To know
With everyone outside
To help us
Good or ill
To know
And maybe we have hope
When we have hope
(even before)
Which is
That small
Thing
In the box
Left over after evils
Have escaped
Too easily
Allowed
To flash
To make themselves
Seen
And heard
Then offering a taste
Of something
That is ash
Or brimstone
When
Frankly
Revealed
While there are other stories
And our senses
For us
Of reality
Of those with strength
And faith to move
Beyond
Uncertainty
To undertake the tasks
Of earth and air
To nourish everything
With water
And more
For encouragement
For growth ourselves
In strength
Of understanding
Toward
Accountability
Even
A generation’s worth
The heroes
Of the small
Even minutiae
Who are ranked in heaven
Among
Those only statued
For a time
On the mortal
Planet
But those remembered there
Without such things
And yet
Deserving more
Shall have it
(though
simplicity
will do
fine)
Once awakened
And brought through
The gate
To something better
Than Valhalla
No more waiting
But
The hero
One by one
And all
Together
(yes
like D’Artagnan
or better
for reality
Jeanne d’Arc
or
Hildegard)
To know here
And to be known
And
Do I say
Therefore think small
And keep one’s
Spirit there
Though small
Is relative
In that
The atom’s
Small to crack
And then
Behold
More than we can manage
Safely
What’s
Small
Worthy
(more
artifact
or talisman)
Might be
Inside the house
Or in one’s head or
In
Another’s heart
And shall we love the one
And help the one
(be helped)
Then help the other
Which is also
Love
Applying wisdom
Of the ages
(so to say)
Or an insight
Fresh
Arrived
Synaptically
From the good angels
On our shoulders
(also to
say
and most likely
from
cartoons)
Jokes
Impractical
Remembering humor
Is what
Saves the world
Too
Starting with the nation
Of a few
Laugh at the devil
And do not mock each other
But
Laugh between ourselves
And in the room
Because
There might be
Needed
Even healing
Health
In that
Then remember whom
We love
And whom we serve
In
No order
Frankly
Self
The other whom we love
The stranger we don’t know
Yet may
Pray for and give to
When time and means
And faith
Call out
With
The God of all
Quite simply
With each one
Has made
Like
Clay
To shape
And has grown
Like crops
From
Seed
And bring to heaven
As on
The best journey
If so difficult
To
Undertake
Yet worthy of
The first
Step
The second
With companionship
Even unaware
But up to us
To keep the series
Going
Toward
The edge
Of what
We have ever known
And then
Quite frankly
The next
Step
Much easier
(if unknown)
Of
The journey on
C L Couch
Photo by TEAcreativelife │ Soo Chung on Unsplash
I had tea with a monk in Seoul, South Korea.
[photographer’s caption]
Jogyesa Temple, Gyeonji-dong, Seoul
(x = space)
x
x
Sometimes Agnostically Yours
x
God, what shall I pray
To you?
I’m sorry for my sins
And I mean that
I ask for forgiveness that
Frankly
I struggle in receiving
x
I ask for daily bread
That might be
Bread
Or
Something else
I need
Pretty much right now
x
And I shall wait
Probably
Pretty badly
While I wait
x
Since need often
Feels punished
And faith
Is much
From an invisible God
To wait for
x
And yet
Stones for bread
Is inhumane
And undivine
And so
I’ll try to anticipate
Exactly the right thing
Provided
x
Sorry
Thank you
Amen
x
C L Couch
x
x
Matthew 6:9
x
Photo by Dave Hoefler on Unsplash
x
Touchstones
I’m looking for
I’m always looking for
Something small and elegant
Like a Fabergé egg, perhaps
Or an egg-sized trilobite
The larger things
Belong in museums
Where we can see them safely
Mostly
Hoping crowds can keep themselves at bay
They can’t
I’ll take my palm-sized treasures
Though, like moon rocks, the Fabergé
Would be too much
I’ll take my fossils
Or a stone polished by water
Or the found things
I’ve made into tableaux
Enjoy retired moments
Before I go
Outside again
C L Couch
Photo by Kunj Parekh on Unsplash
31 January 2016
(in the global north)
I still wake up with jittery feelings. The sun is bright. The snow is melting down. Maybe I need it gone. But is that the boundary of my fear? I sit and look outside to see the beauty. I am inspired to come back and write a verse of two. Still, fear jumps inside me. At least it doesn’t leap. I’ll feel better, once I write a bit. Drink a hot drink, maybe take a pill or two pills. I know that on a good day my heart still operates in an iffy way. I know that what happened here was momentous. It’s momentous, still, outside. As in ancient Arabian architecture, I cherish space and righter light. Not simply looking out into amorphous glare. Rather the view of a virtuously bright and blue-skied world above with earth of desert browns beneath. Through arches made of genius and of grace, numbering the stars within each stone’s embrace.
I dream this is all easier, if not delightful, in a desert paradisal scene. Where arid becomes beautiful and free air moves through all, spirits borne and carried along. Maybe heaven’s healing wind will pause and wave upon me there, and I will feel and know something of the serene aspect of God.
Too much romance and earthly-bound, I know. But I need this. My fear frankly needs it, as does my hope and peace.
I have little words of life, posted below and next. The Celtic circle is from my ethnic heritage. No doubt the circle has meaning, aged and new, from many other people and places. (Places have age; people are always new.) What does the circle mean from you and yours? Treasuring, the next poem-post, is about small glories we might live.
Celtic Understanding
(say it like hard K)
The circle tells us always
That all things are one
That we are one
Cut it into wood
Grind it into stone
Ring it round a fire
The fire is one, too
And part of us
And we with it
Sacred, secular
Reality is this
Circle ever moving
Without end
We do not end
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