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They Wave Farewell

(x = space)

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They Wave Farewell

(Memorial Day, USA)

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Red

(with white and blue)

Waving over fields

Dropping morning dew

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For us

It is remembering

A waving day of it

Poppy remembering

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Nature teaches

And must be

A burying place for war

The fields wave

The children wave

We wave

They wave farewell

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Nature weeps

With dew, with rain, with

Anything that falls

All of us may fall

And weep

We may weep

For the children

(all are children)

Of the world

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C L Couch

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Photo by Wolfgang Hasselmann on Unsplash

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Stone Soup

(x = space)

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Stone Soup

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I don’t know what to say today

I want you to have a good day

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And for a while

To know good days

And what to do when days are bad

Beyond the dreaming we all do

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So that it’s

What we know to do with what we have

Sometimes that’s hard

And hard to believe we have

I’m poor

I know

Too close to the legacy

Of art and artists

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But I know good people

Am learning to ask

And not gauge heaven by response

Or lack thereof

But to keep trying

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Also allowing expectation

We live

We are entitled to live

I don’t know about evil people

I know so few

You are entitled, too, I suppose

I am not God

And cannot judge as God

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But the many, many, many

Of us who are not evil, not pure good

A mix, you know–

Choose a complementary color

We are colors

We color the world

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And are deserving

You deserve

A good day and another

A whole bunch like bananas

Or corn kernels on the cob

Or other things so many colors

(as I’ve said)

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Anyway,

A wish is not a horse

Or an electric car

And, drat, we have to try

The curse of Adam, some would say

Eve is cursed as well

But curses are not endings

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“We have to make our own way,”

I just heard,

Which is true

And there’s so much more

There’s you

There’s me

And any me or you who happens

To be close to you or me

In distance

Actual

Or relative

(and there’s cyber-),

Which is to say

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A nearness

(actual or relative)

To help make life

One bowl of stone soup

At a time

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C L Couch

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     Stone Soup is a European folk story in which hungry strangers convince the people of a town to each share a small amount of their food in order to make a meal that everyone enjoys, and exists as a moral regarding the value of sharing. In varying traditions, the stone has been replaced with other common inedible objects, and therefore the fable is also known as axe soup, button soup, nail soup, and wood soup.

Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia

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Statue of a monk and stone soup (sopa da pedra) in Almeirim, Portugal

By Adriao – Own work, Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=7645719

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Flesh, Spirit, and Everything that Matters

(x = space)

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Flesh, Spirit, and Everything that Matters

(for Easter)

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Good Friday becomes Easter

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Good becomes better

Good becomes goodest

Abandonment is over

The teacher has returned

And the homeowner

And we each have a place in that home

It is so large

And always adding

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The wounds are healed

There are reminders;

Mainly (surely),

He is alive

x

There was no question that he died

We wept, we keened

We buried

There was a stone

There was a guard

There was no doubt in this

The emperors

And would-be emperors

Clinked their glasses

And sat back,

Sighed

That’s done

The conspiracy is over

Plot succeeded

And we can blame other people

x

God and people are

Reconciled

Through life and death

And life again

The absurdity of the final miracle

Over death inexorable

Unavoidable

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And NOT forever

What?

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This is what we know

And now through resurrection

We must believe that

Death is not all

It is not inexorable

It is avoidable

We may die

We might sleep

If so,

We will awake again

How does this happen?

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It is God

Who has a part in us

Who made us

Who is spirit

And flesh

And everything that makes up

A creator

And a lover

And a savior

Immanuel from Hebrew

God with us

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We walk a bridge

That wasn’t there

God is on the other side:

In fact,

We can find out

God is on both sides

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C L Couch

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Photo by Joshua Sortino on Unsplash

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Starts with a Story

(x = space)

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Starts with a Story

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On a hazy

Saturday,

We talk about

The past

Long past

How the human genius

And the genius of creation

All ancient

Partnerships

Ask better of us

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Look at the red curve

In Altimira

I think

An arch that goes much further

Than a count

A quota

Even for life

The lives of

Ancient companions

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Red and black

Lines

So much more than

Counting

That have ancient majesty

A thinking of high places

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Pointed Notre-Dame

Or round Saint Paul’s

May rise in tandem with

Ancient siblinghood

Reasons for the hunt

For the migration

After meals

For living

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For living

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C L Couch

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The Dawn of Everything by David Graeber, David Wengrow

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Bison in the cave of Altamira.

(image) By Daniel Villafruela. – Own work, CC BY 3.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=22778033

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Mud-Healing

(x = space)

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Mud-Healing

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Jesus didn’t need

Things

He didn’t need mud

To heal,

To draw in the dirt

To make a point

He didn’t need a drove

Of pigs

(poor pigs)

He didn’t need a feast

He didn’t need

The perfumed oil,

Though he adored

The one who gave it

I am sure

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He didn’t need Martha’s

Food

He didn’t need Mary

At his feet to learn

Though I imagine

He was happy for

Her devotion

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Jesus didn’t need

The Earth

Though he came

To save it

And to give

Too much

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This was

And is

A God of love

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When we love,

So many things

Don’t matter,

Anymore

And what does

We’re willing

If not ready

To give up the world for

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Sacrifice

For service

For devotion

Life for another life,

To dive or run into

Dangerous waters

For rescue

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C L Couch

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(the sermon started in John 9, mud-healing)

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Photo by Piotr Hamryszczak on Unsplash

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From Chairs

(x = space)

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From Chairs

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We look over,

see

Winter’s lower light

Break

Through

The invention of

The window

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Relief

In viewing

An out-there when

In-here becomes

Too close,

Distractions

Not enough to keep

Supernal us

From rush to and through

The stars

We know are out there, bearing

The truth

Of things

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Maybe

Especially when exigent

We hear

As well

The angels’ songs

For mortals

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C L Couch

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Photo by Ariel on Unsplash

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Lean-To

(x = space)

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Lean-To

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Earth tilts

Unlike pinball

The other way

Then tilts

The other way

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We light fires

To appease

So that the axis

Listens

Turns us back

To growing seasons

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We’ll have winter

Now

While they have

Summer

The world is made

Of complements

As well as

Paradox

Winter summer,

Equator and the poles

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A world on which

All things hold

That must hold

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Our home

Embraces opposites

In seasons

In tilting one way

Then the other

In value for us all

And each one

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C L Couch

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Sunrise in Iceland 11:19 this morning.

Hafsteinn Robertsson from Hafnarfjordur, Iceland – Winter Solstice, CC BY 2.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=73751614

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An Appointment with God

(x = space)

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An Appointment with God

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I don’t’ have so many appointments

Lately,

For which I’m grateful

In a time of my kind of PTSD,

It’s the weight of stressors

I don’t have to bear

So much

x

To get there

To show up on time

To be here when I’m called

To have everything I

Might be needing

Relieved of this

Makes for a better day

x

I’d like to live easy

I don’t have much

But to have time

And on the flip side

Lack of bother

On the A side

Coffee and toast

And morning

And a day for you

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Someday will arrive

I keep forgetting

You will arrive

To take me to home

By then,

Maybe I shall be glad

Meanwhile, I keep my faith

With me and then I

Hope with

The Amish

Who say, one by one,

I hope so

When asked about assurance

Of salvation

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C L Couch

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I think it was the poet Julia Kasdorf, as I may have said before, who told me about the typical response when Amish are asked the salvific question.

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Waves

Photo by Bernd Dittrich on Unsplash

Frankreich

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Gaze

(x = space)

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Gaze

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Give me a

Small piece of Earth

For a while

With dust swept in the corner

Without perfection

A hard floor

Some stones for walls

A ledge from which to look

While I can look

Out upon, well,

Everything you’ve made

And the uneasy alliance

You have with

Your creatures

Maybe all of them

Certainly the ones who

Made it out of Eden

Not unscathed

And how much we took with us

No one knows for now

And it’s been a while

And in this place

I’ll ponder you

And us

And our place with each other

In the grander scheme

Of things,

Which for now is

Still a guess

Though sometimes

We think we’re getting closer

But I won’t care about conclusions

Rather the sacraments

In each moment

Normal, mortal

Materials

Turned

Taken inside

To serve a spiritual purpose

However far

A thought of you

And us

Might take us

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C L Couch

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The Sacrament of the Present Moment by Jean-Pierre de Caussade

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Photo by Brigi Uhrin on Unsplash

Budapest, Budapest, Magyarország

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