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I talk you talk we'll talk

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welcome

poem prayer, poem lyric

A Jazz Singer

(x = space)

x

x

A Jazz Singer

(for Paul)

x

The jazz singer

Being Jewish in a

Family

x

Wanting to be famous

Have a talent

To be

Tested

And a wish to be excused

From doctrinaire

Behaviors

While accepted

For the seder

Or when showing up

As the schedule

In being famous

Might allow

x

A public

Served

Entertained

Inspired

Is that enough

Is that acceptable

Against

Acceptable

Through generations

x

And the ones

Unprodigal

Who keep it all

And might remember

Those

Who do return

x

Remember whom

The empty chair

Is for

And would

In turn

Be welcoming

From the prophet

Of the one

Who reconfigures things

To save

With pleasure

Inside notes and rhythms

For a larger

Needful

World

x

So keep the second chair

Upon

Returning

Leant against the wall

And ready

x

C L Couch

x

x

Photo by Tim Mossholder on Unsplash

x

Poor Evangelist

(x = space)

x

x

Poor Evangelist

x

I am a Christian

x

I hope anyone who

Needs to know

For good or ill

Knows that

x

The things is

I don’t mind if you are not

x

In fact, if you are from

Another faith

I’ll find that interesting

And want

To know

Something of your story

x

It’s bad evangelism

I know

And I’ll be glad

Typically

To tell you more about my faith

x

But I am entrenched

(without the trenches)

With respect

x

I want

To respect your tradition

Or your lack of one

Or somewhere in between

x

I think this is what we need

In the world just now

x

With respect,

We might withhold our fingers

From the buttons

x

We might shut up our cant

Or rant

Instead to listen

x

Stories are personal

And of a people

x

After and while happening,

Most stories deserve

To be heard

x

Shut down the hate

To hear

And have your circle of perspective

And acceptance widened

x

Hope to be treated

The same way

And that the Earth will hold

Together

From our destructive devices

Not only military

While we listen

And by impulse,

The way we are constructed,

Learn

x

To say

To welcome

And to hear

x

C L Couch

x

x

Photo by Steve Johnson on Unsplash

x

Robb Elementary School, After

(x = space)

x

x

Robb Elementary School, After

x

Irony of welcome

We know this

You are welcome now

Not your guns

Not your murderous intent

You may have a troubled mind

And still come in

There are counselors

In school and life

But really you should come here

For a reason

That not only fits the mission

But also the constituency

x

Parents of our learners

Patrons of

Our special programs

Library volunteers

Or other signed-up, cleared

Helpers

We want our school

To be good

We want to welcome you

Bienvenidos

x

C L Couch

x

Outside, underneath the name Robb Elementary School, there is a greeting, Bienvenidos.  Welcome to our school.

x

x

Photo by Sharon McCutcheon on Unsplash

x

Indiana Bible Study

(x = space)

x

x

Indiana Bible Study

(a neophyte in pandemic time)

x

I was an interloper

Not really

I had been invited

But I knew no one else

x

It was a discussion

Of Saint Paul’s mission

To a group

In a letter to

Another group

See, I was late

x

This was on Zoom

And I cannot work it out

Sometimes I was

A black square

Sometimes an image

That was true

(I brushed my hair,

beforehand)

Sometimes I got to write

I was never heard,

Which probably

Was just as well

x

I was welcomed

(thank you)

And got to hear

(thank you)

The stories of others

Shared as insight

And later prayer requests

x

My friend and I

Talked afterward

(over the phone, which

I can manage)

With a promise to

Rehearse the technology

x

But here was a group

To join

That has a life beyond

This meeting

‘Til the next one

And I was invited,

Which is evangelism

In itself

x

C L Couch

x

x

Photo by Fré Sonneveld on Unsplash

Power Line Grids

x

Philemon’s Pitcher

Philemon’s Pitcher

(Advent, anytime)

 

I pour water from the Brita

And think of Philemon’s pitcher

A wonderful story

I’m not sure about the judgey part

But the provision part

Is glorious

If you don’t know

(and if you do),

There was an old couple in

Still more ancient Greece

Living near a town that was

Beautiful in appearance, though the

People there were

Took glory too far

They were vain and unwelcoming

Of those who were not they

They lived well

Strangers were not taken in

Nor impoverished neighbors,

Such as Bacchus and Philemon

 

They lived poorly

In a hovel

They had worked hard,

But now there was nothing

And one evening they set out

The last of what they had

For they would surely starve by

The next day

A cluster of worn grapes

A pitcher filled with drops of bitter wine

They last meal together

 

Then two persons appeared in the

Doorway,

And they asked for comforts

Food and afterward a place to sleep

Wife and husband exchanged a glance

Then apologized

To strangers

We have little space

And our food is poor

But we are glad to share with you

If you will, be welcome here

With us

 

The visitors were pleased and thanked their hosts

And sat down to eat and drink

What might not even share among

The four of them

But when

 

The wine poured from the pitcher,

It was wondrous

Rich in red and filled with

Savor once tried

And when the grapes were offered,

They appeared full richly on the plate

And were sweet to taste

And satisfying

And the four at table feasted

On small miracles

 

Once sated

All lay down to rest

What coverings there were,

Bacchus and Philemon presented

To their guests

 

And in the morning

The couple woke beneath marvelous cloths

And their raiment appeared richly sewn

Their hovel was a house

Of polished marble, the furnishings all

Castle-grand

 

They walked outside into the sun

And in the valley where the town of

The conceited lay,

There was now a lake

Whose surface shown in judgment

Nothing more was seen

Then they knew

If not before

That they had been visited by gods

Who rendered service rendered

From the welcoming

Like that of kings and queens

And thought unasked for

Reward turned into recompense

 

And so we know

Something of receiving strangers

Who give no cause but need

Be inclined to welcome them

For we might be entertaining angels,

Unaware

 

C L Couch

 

 

https://grabcad.com/library/pitcher-of-wine

 

Jazz Mass

Jazz Mass

 

Syncopated praise

Offbeat words and rhythm

Liturgy and litany

We have our ways to get

Involved

 

Invocated presence in

Bright colors through the

Music that we see and

Feel as well as hear

 

All are especially welcome

Here, for come-as-you-are

Takes new meaning

 

That which is not day-by-

Day is especially

Welcome now and here

 

It’s all right, though, the

Day-by-day folk are

Welcome, too

 

Everything is solid, yes

Though with haze

Around the edges

A cloud of unknowing

Truths because all of

Us might not know

What note might be

Arriving next

 

What might be played

What might be heard

 

What might be

Received from God

Snapping fingers,

Tapping toes, humming

As if the tone were

Sitting right with us

 

Because it is

 

And we might be

Changed for this time

Of many times—6/8,

4/4, 5/4, 7/8—however

It Gospel-goes

 

Out of the blue

Out of the blues

 

 

(a contemporary form of

Christian worship)

First Words Depending on Where Refugees Arrive

(response to Denmark’s new law)

 

First Words Depending on Where Refugees Arrive

Welcome to our nation
Give us everything you have

Welcome to our nation
We need to assay all you own

Welcome to our nation
How will you contribute?

Welcome to our nation
We have to screen you first

Welcome to your nation
Let’s get you settled here

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