(x = space)

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Three-Syllables Agape or Two-Syllables Agape

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Sigh

And what does love way

After all the vituperation

All the blame-casting

All the metaphoric bile

In the hate we bear?

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I don’t know

That we should care for ourselves

And each other

That if we loved God first

Everything else would work

Respecting those who don’t believe

There are good atheists

And good agnostics

Who treat believers

As a crazed minority

And to look at the evidence

Have a case

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But it’s sin, I guess

From within and without

Our choices, the choices of others

Choose to love

Choose to hate

And who cannot be struck

Without saying OW

That’s natural

It’s impulsive

And deserved

Though it’s not the end

It does not have to rush

To blame and retribution

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Take a moment

Choose something like a star

Stay inspired through the hurt,

Which is not masochism

But allowing thought

And heart to keep a hold

From everything turned over

Into the nether realms

Of rusting feeling

Gnawing hate

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Give peace a chance

Can’t we all get along?

It must be so much better

Than saws

And satire

The darkness follows light

Then there’s more light

Illumination

We are better than our hurts

Better than vile agenda

We could make agenda brilliant

And ambition

And profit

And plans

And when there’s a crash

Of accident

Or wills

We could act as EMTs

And then allow a moment

To reconnoiter

And to reckon

How to heal a rending world

Bring it back

To one whole thing

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Yes, I mean the war

And wars everywhere

But I also mean the virus

We forget

Unless we’re sick

Or around

Those who are sick

And inflation

And corruption

We can do better

To keep the world from burning

We must

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I should end on a note of love

A song of peace

Measured by hope

But there are questions

To be answered, first

That we must put to each other

Questions

And answers

Reactions and worked-out actions

A process for our accountable part

Of the universe

Yes, that much

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C L Couch

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“Choose Something like a Star“

Robert Frost

. . .

So when at times the mob is swayed
To carry praise or blame too far,
We may choose something like a star
To stay our minds on and be staid.

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Photo by Aldebaran S on Unsplash

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