celestial travel ecumenical
the journey crost
over
the bar
a star that guides
the journey each of us have to
take
hoping the water’s navigable
and the pilot
knows the way
and has firm grip upon
the wheel
and can command the crew
both technically and
kindly
then Tennyson has sailed this way
crost to the other side
and
we might do the same in variants of
faith
and transport but
to arrive
to disembark or simply step
from this life into
heaven
or
what you call it
how you get
there
that
we may study
talk about
while we pursue
c l couch
Crossing the Bar
Sunset and evening star,
And one clear call for me!
And may there be no moaning of the bar,
When I put out to sea,
But such a tide as moving seems asleep,
Too full for sound and foam,
When that which drew from out the boundless deep
Turns again home.
Twilight and evening bell,
And after that the dark!
And may there be no sadness of farewell,
When I embark;
For tho' from out our bourne of Time and Place
The flood may bear me far,
I hope to see my Pilot face to face
When I have crost the bar.
Alfred, Lord Tennyson
after Tennyson composed the poem, he requested that it appear at the end of all published collections, and it did
photo by Gene Gallin on Unsplash
"Cherry Branch-Minnesott Beach Ferry, North Carolina, USA"
Study the War
The wars go on
And I have studied wars
Lazy
Of the past
And so far past
Not
To affect my idle service
Much
(1-A did not prevail)
Or really
Much
If anything
Of a life post-war
I do know something
Of big
Heavy blocks
Of strategy
Simplified
Easy
To apprehend
In a chapter
Or an episode
And I can look at
(hear)
The numbers
Then guess how they feel
When a town was there
And now it’s gone
And so do I
Know anything
Of war
I can sing about it
But really
I don’t know
Anything
You know
And could have sung
Before I started
Reading
Ain’t gonna study the war no more
And never starting
C L Couch
Photo by Rafael Ishkhanyan on Unsplash
(x = space)
x
x
Foolish Wise
x
It’s been a while
Since a Bible study came my way
Or on occasion
When I’ve formed one
x
I miss the circle
The things we say while, frankly,
We are on our better behavior
After all, holding the book
That guides the way
x
Not that we are free from sin
Or won’t resume our earthbound
Lives when
We are done for the hour,
Sipping coffee, shaking hands
x
But for the time
We are good
The doorway to the spirit
Has been opened
And we are closer to the selves
We want to be
x
C L Couch
x
x
Photo by Alex Perez on Unsplash
Make a splash.
x
Victimhood
(a reverie, a study)
Evil is too easy
Is it really?
Maybe on the inside
A quick turn, then stay
In that direction
Me, first
You don’t exist
Everything is fodder
For possession
And control
The very stuff of the universe
Should be mine
And then it’s gone
I have nothing
There’s a lesson in legacy
The tyrant is forgotten
Except for notes that tell the truth
And finally
The evil ones are burned
Like autumn leaves in the backyard
(how it used to be)
Effigy and memory
And was this easy?
Yes, and lazy, too
Everything subverted to
A contract with the luck of the devil
A genie who grants wishes and
Scratch-like
Always laughs the last
Because the house of hell always wins
Once entered by
The gullible who think
That profit is a plot
Hard work is another matter for
Good people
The suckers, so I always thought
The despot
And now I am ash
Blown off the foot in the tread
Of someone righteous
Whose agencies are angels
A surrogacy of judgment
My victims
Lazarus
Living in a better house, the house of God forever
While I diminish
To a speck
And then am nothing
No matter left
Nothing
C L Couch
Ramesseum in Egypt
clcouch123 
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