cherish is the word
the spooky tree
I just heard mention of
a “spooky tree”
trees are spooky
I suppose
or can be especially when given
the Hallowe’en shape
and
association
though trees are green as well
and the green parts
we are drawn
to
for all they are as well as
what they mean
green
la vida
(not loca)
we have had an equinox
lately
and so we’re on a kind of edge
or cusp
in
not so much
the sky-shape of the moon
and how the stars
are
traveling
or even tables of tides
or even
Zodiac zones
we are on a line
an edge
a cusp
and spring should follow
normally
though we have put the seasons on an edge
as well
through what we’ve done to sky
water
and ground
our edge
(related to the others)
is made up of
resolve
which the other things with lines and such
can’t muster
we choose the Earth
we choose
the sky
the water
and the ground
and we choose each other
in the kind of
relation
that comes with deciding our part
of the cosmos
(sometimes
consideration is that
big)
what shall we choose
and
how to live
we have a cusp for timing
there’s no point in
despotism
we can be equal in each other’s eyes
and
all selective senses
and
yes
there’s good
and there is evil
and they need attending
for each is in the world
as each is
in
and from
each of us
we have to keep a world
governments and industries
we should value life
our lives
in whatever motley way we have life
once
we have it
and it goes on
the isms have their place
though they should be mollified by
things
mentioned through ages
befitting
old
and new
and renewed
c l couch
“Cherish” is a song written by Terry Kirkman and recorded by The Association. “Cherish” was released in 1966.
Photo by USGS on Unsplash[--]Soaring, snow-capped peaks and ridges of the eastern Himalaya Mountains create an irregular white-on-red patchwork between major rivers in southwestern China. The Himalayas are made up of three parallel mountain ranges that together extend more than 2,900 kilometers. [From USGS.] (And it looks a bit like a Hallowe’en tree. From me.)
(x = space)
x
x
And, But, Or, Nor, For, Yet, So
x
What do I do
When God is gone?
A question I don’t have to ask
Because it doesn’t happen
God doesn’t go away
I do
I go away when I want
To think of someone else
Of something that I want
That I shouldn’t have
When I need
Or presume to need
Enough to bump out God
From my awareness,
Which qualifies the need
As something else
x
This is straightforward:
I choose to have God in my life
Closer to me, anyway
Since God is there
Creating
Maintaining
Weeping or laughing at
What we do
Preparing for Parousia
Yet
Cherishing each moment
The now we have
We linear beings
Meaning for us
It’s a saving moment
To a saving moment
x
God is close
God is inherent
In electrons
And cellular nuclei
God will become more obvious
As we wish
As we choose
As we ask it so
(the asking’s prayer)
The devil has many ways
To snare us away
It is agenda
Of the kind that pushes will
And understanding
Inside a frame that illustrate
An attitude
Against people and the
Environment
The Earth we stand or glide
Or rest upon
All of which, the devil says,
Is unimportant
When favoring
Profit
Unhuman strategies
(inhumane)
That only matter as
Winning so that the rest
Are losers
x
Who is lost?
The burden’s hard
The burden’s easy
It’s paradox
Of faith
Of belief in God who’s only known
Through evidence unseen
Who wins a case through this?
x
Such contradictions
Such opposites
The world we love must be eschewed
If we would live, there is first
The inevitability of dying
Sheesh
No thank you
Or thank you
Our will to embrace
To choose
To live in love
With the good in everything
With faith
And hard belief that has gentle edges
In what we show each other
(as in manifest)
In what we sense
And how we deal
With everyone
With everything
By which and in which
A spirit accompanies
For good
For upbuilding
For faith
And, yes, for love
x
We live in hope
That God is there
That God is there when we return
Or when we turn around
In attitude
Repentance
Sorry and a new embrace
Of faith
Gove love this Earth
And the extraordinary creatures
That you’ve made
That is each of us
Not that we are perfect
Or perfectly anything
But in everyone
And everything
The three remain close by
The three remain close by
x
C L Couch
x
x
By Finoskov – Own work, CC BY-SA 4.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=109525350
x
(x = space)
x
x
sorry, long
x
x
Three, One, Three Again
x
1
Creator, savior, guide
Maybe I understand the trinity
Maybe not
They are lively
And immediate
They are at work all the time
And understand rest
They commend a sabbath
And the days on either side
They are all efficiency
And all love
We have access to them
And, as teachers and advisors
Not to mention
God,
They nudge us
All the time
x
2
What kind of commanders
Legions at their call
They give us time
And patience
Before anything like
A final battle
Victory assured
I mean in this moment
We wait and wait and wait
Or, worse, deny
While they withhold rejection
Until the moment
Past the moment
Before judgment
Should decide
x
They give us time
Keeping everything at bay,
Which is love
All love
Splicing revelation
Tailoring salvation
For each one
Each encounter
How wondrously and thunderously
Special
What kind of God
What parts of God
Can do this
And then do it
x
3
Hear, O Israel
And all other nations,
Catch them in the human heart
Live as one
Each one as all
Repair the ruin of the Earth
There is so much faith
And good work to do
x
They are mild
They are also Armageddon
What kind of love
What kind of God
Three then one
Then three again
They live in constant relationship
So should we
Within the parts
Of ourselves,
Each one
And then
Altogether
x
More than one in one
We can have that, too:
Remember might
Remember love
Both mingled in each moment
Quicksilver
And slow water
Everything that moves
And tries to rest
They show us the way
To give us something every day
Then just after our last day
After work
And battling
And sabbathing
To lead us home
x
C L Couch
x
x
Maybe it’s not my tradition, but I mean to be respectful of the Shema.
x
Temple of Edfu, Egypt
Photo by Jeremy Zero on Unsplash
x
Synesthesia
Blue is a magic number
I know, Schoolhouse Rock fans
It should be three
And it is
But sometimes associations need
To take a second seat
In favor of new leanings
Today is Saturday
It’s orange
C L Couch
three poems about light
by C L Couch
The Light We Make
White lights
Illuminate too much
I don’t like them
In headlights or in overhead neon,
Especially
Where is the dawn
That softly cascades on all
Things below
If it’s an emergency,
That’s one thing
But for day-to-day, why
Can’t we have gold
Freely delivered from
Heaven’s treasure
Or more homely manufacturing?
Better the dawn, I think,
For inspiration
A glimpse of visioning like
Angels,
A reason at the start of day
Galadriel Comes to Rivendell
(a Middle-Earth lyric)
In a penultimate age
Galadriel comes to Rivendell
To toast with Elrond
A Elbereth Gilthoniel
Whom shell they be meeting soon
On the first shore
Of unending
Once upon a timeless time
And everlasting
Well done, the half-elf declares
I knew you were hiding by
The gate
Hidden by my host, she corrects
They would not bear
To evidence my presence
So far from the
Golden wood of home
Where, alas, Celeborn remains
But ready, comes the declaration
From the host, back to the
Final battle,
Always ready, and she smiles
All our allies had not yet
Arrived
I would have gone to them
You would have commended
Or commanded all of us there,
I wonder
I would not have said a
Word
The authority of your magic
Is the message
In elvish silence
Even better, I think?
She sipped
And so they talked, old friends
As much as majesty and crusade allow
While the night inside faded
Outside a new day already
Transpiring
That would no longer know them
Might they leave
Yet a hint of Hollin
Goodness might remain
Where they once passed
[all the rest is benediction and epilogue]
So their time
Our time
An age between
Rises at dawn
Under a yellow, mortal sun
No longer blessed
By characters
And presence
A benediction before
They leave
All doors open wide
To welcome gratitude
Or rudeness
Mortals’ choice
An eagle’s blessing
Then all the keepers of blue flame
And light we cannot bear
Are gone
Misfit
The lights of heaven
Are too much for me
I cannot manage
Pure light that has other
Texture
I need light gobos through wisping clouds
And trees,
Dressed in motley by
All earthly forms and shadows
In the shade
Is fine for me
Though not in formless dark,
Please
Readiness for paradise
Means new lenses, I suppose
Like focusing kaleidoscopes
Or tracing light through prisms
I will adjust
Or be adjusted
By perfect agencies
Gate-keepers,
Heaven-defenders
Who see all clear
For ages, now
So will you
So will I
http://www.jesuitas.co/homilia_2121.html
Mid-Atlantic States’ Autumn Afternoon
Soon it’s three o’clock:
My favorite hour at this time
of year,
when daylight starts further
to fall, because it’s set to do so
When stark-yellow transports
will go by
smooth and grumbly under
billow-clouds with cotton faces
deepening
They say, laughing while we
run for porches that have
ceilings,
Enjoy this grey day
Its lack of definition presses
romance through everything
beneath
an amber sun
Burnt Cabins,
Pennsylvania
We’ve suffered
A local tragedy
That might never
Be explained
Even if a reason’s
Given
We have a super
Highway—yes,
America’s
First “super
Highway”—that
Is the Pennsylvania
Turnpike, and
A retired trooper
Of the state
Police tried a
Robbery at one
Of the stations
There
Between small
Towns in the
Allegheny Mountains,
Two workers
Are taken, held
By his gun,
Until the truck
Arrives to gather
Monies from the
Turnpike tolls
The theft occurs
And fails, the
Captives shot
And killed; the
Officer-now-
Suspect is killed,
Too
Serving troopers
Prepared and
assigned, had
Arrived to restore
An aberrant,
Criminal scene
Back to ordinary
Nothing ordinary
Anymore here:
With tears, the
Deaths are told
Each word
Sounding like
The heavy note
Of a mourning
Bell
Sadness ringed
Round sadness,
As voices split
To tell
It will be a
Story of
Transgression
And the sorrow
Brought to many
Kinds of
Families, and
It might pass
From focused
Attention
But here was a
Neighbor tragedy
On persons who
Will not
Appear in their
Expected places
At work or at
Home
And others living
Who will never
Be the same
A chance for
Money maybe
Too easy a
Reason for all
That befell
Close by—I
Tend to believe
Something else
About surrendering
Life happened
Here
clcouch123 
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