How Much God-Complaining Is Allowed
And how does God love us
Well
Perfectly
To start
But it’s so frustrating
Where is the fruit
That rightly comes
Each year
We have waited
Through the brown
And white
And green seasons
Now it’s gold
But you don’t offer
Anything like guarantees
Of harvesting
For faith
You even excoriate
The wealthy
And leaders
Over living well
And
Yes
On taking
Keeping
Hoarding
From the rest
Tossing the peeling
While
Chewing through the fruit
Okay
Maybe you don’t do that
But what do you do
What is promise
And the bounty
From believing
We can’t even see you
Hear you
Touch you
Taste you
And what is left
Smell you
Like incense
That we use divine
In churches
Rising up
As if you were there
To take the tendrils
As requests
While we hope
And choke
(sometimes)
For needful
Responses
Well and good
And not so good
We have to wait
We cannot see
Or hear
And all the rest
And yet you are perfect
Perfect love
Where is that
Please
We need it
(sorry)
Obviously
We’re hungry
We’re thirsty
We’re too much on our own
And where are you
But here somehow and
Please
Show up with parcels
Please
Of all we need
All we need assuage
All we need consume
For life
Even if
We have poor understanding
What that means
Which
Of course
Is why we ask for you
Please show up
I need you
God
Please show
C L Couch
Photo by Lin Leyu on Unsplash
(x = space)
x
x
prayer in a circle
x
prayer in a circle
at the table
or
while standing
anywhere
x
it’s beautiful
attaching words
to statements
supplications
even
questions
with our doubts
x
the prayer is over
we are stronger
knowing
something to affirm
and in a kind
of pledge
to do the next thing
with spiritual
aplomb
and just plain niceness
(yep)
to each other
as the circle visually
fades
to purpose
x
c l couch
x
x
photo by Igor Surkov on Unsplash
x
(x = space)
x
x
3 poems for summer solstice
x
x
Merry July
x
Solstice
It’s summer now
Summer weather smacks us
Here
Temps aiming for 90
I guess in Australia
New Zealand
New Guinea
Little America
Winter is begun
Throw logs on the fire
Sing winter carols
Withholding Christmas and
The other holidays
‘Til the start of summer
In December
Christmas in July
A custom mostly mercantile
In the north
Could be the real thing
With trees and
Were it high enough
Some snow
Ornaments and lights
Certainly
Merry Christmas in
Alice Springs
Wellington
Tierre del Fuego
On the Falklands
At the southern pole
Santa’s summer home
Like winter
x
x
Intentions
x
God, what shall I
Say to you?
I worship you
In contemporary ways
I’m sorry for sins
You have seen in me
And known for centuries
I thank you for your presence
Having made all good things
And the ways to deal
With the bad
I ask of you
To welcome home
Those who die
And heal those who live
Cure cancer
End war
Well, I can ask
x
x
Siblinghood
x
It’s like science fiction
Slipping out of time
Our of normalcy
Eating meals on time
Cleaning on a schedule
Ingrained expectations
Instinctive, conditioned
Responses
x
To fall outside of these
To live with fewer clothes
To hope for decent meals
In penury,
To dream of trips
But only travel like Thoreau
Walking to and from
The town
x
Everything else happens
On the inside
How sad this is
At least how strange
But there’s a purpose
Those who fall outside
Will look back
And when not wistful
Will prophecy
In art
x
x
C L Couch
x
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Saint John’s (Midsummer) Fire at Dragør Beach (Denmark)
XSimon, CC BY 3.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=53634435
x
Psalm 32
a song before repentance
I should be truer to you
And stay that way
Learning more about you
Fulfilling my awareness
Of how your love
The world
Psalm 33
a song of anxious supplication
Forgive me when I fail
Strengthen me
Take my hollow parts
To fill them with truth
And better cause
Love
Not so much for reward
As for peace
If peace comes with it
Finally, please
I’ll have
On the Cusp of a Nor’Easter
(prose poem)
So my friend calls from Indiana. I tell her of my sister’s new job. I am relieved and happy, because my friend’s been struggling with sufferings that would drive me mad. She sounds well and has a chance to tell me some about her family on her way to church to help lead (in technical matters) a Bible study there. It is cold here. It is colder there (single-digit degrees for many days). When she must ring off, she does. I am at the coffeemaker and place the backside of the phone on a spiral burner on the stovetop (everything turned off). While the coffee’s cooking, I clean out some plastic bottles into which I put tap water to drink throughout the day. Not thinking at first, I place the cleaned-out bottles just outside the burner circle set upon the stove. When I’ve done this four times, I have four empty bottles cornering a phone set on a burner plate of labyrinthine form. I’m sure there is a deity for winter (generally, Persephone, though I’m thinking there’s one for winter only), and have I not built a small, strange contemporary altar to her. A narrow receiver (wireless) offered up inside four plastic monoliths keeping in their stillness their own kind of sentinel watching. Is this supplication? I want my friend to be well. I want her husband to enjoy retirement and her daughter have success at school. I want the cold to move on, over there, though for a Midwest winter season, I guess what is endured is rather normal. (Still too cold.) My temps in southern Pennsylvania still have two digits. But we are called to be ourselves storm-ready against a coming, miles-wide soon-arriving gale. It smacks the South and later rounds out to sea—on the way releasing slivering ice and snow and the season’s other dangers onto our regional metropoles: D.C., Baltimore, Philadelphia, and New York. And in my small town? I pray for navigable roads. In my small place, I pray for electricity’s constancy—that it might faithfully provide sufficient heat in rapport with the thermostat. And now I guess I wait. We wait. I clear the stove and leave on the burner now a single cup, ready for coffee. The empty ceramic vessel a suburban symbol of encouragement and also, I think, of supplication.
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