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Returning Gifts

Returning Gifts

 

Praise the Lord

And all that is in me praise the Lord

Or something like that

How can I praise such a thing as God

When I am such a thing as me?

To God be the glory

How can I glorify

When I am so small,

And my voice is broken?

I know the story of the smallest angel

In the movie, Fred Gwynne as

Mentor angel talks of his mother’s

Brown bread, when all

Were mortal

 

But in the young one

(newly angelified)

There is purity

And innocence to give

As gifts in the small box emblemize

What have I like these?

 

And wouldn’t I look at you

To say there is so much

Because there is—I

Guess I need to understand

That everything with life has worth

Even if itself it were a gift

I can turn it over

(so can you)

And that’s the act of service

And of love

 

C L Couch

 

 

Image by Marc Pascual from Pixabay

The Littlest Angel by Charles Tazewell (1946)

 

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God Loves Ewe

There are harsher things to write about today.  Maybe tomorrow.

As I was working, the song came to mind “He’s Got the Whole World in His Hands.”  I imagine the song will be with me for a while.

 

 

God Loves Ewe

 

God loves the lamb, the ram, the llama, and alpaca

All the cats and dogs

Chickens, too

The duck-billed platypus (is there another kind of platypus?)

Angel Falls

And the Panama Canal

New York City, Moscow, Beijing

Alice Springs, Nazca, Tecate, and Palikir on the island of Pohnpei

Midway Island

Mechanicsburg, Pennsylvania

 

God loved the dinosaurs

And maybe somewhere loves them still

God loves everyone who’s come before

Who will arrive today

And go home tomorrow

 

God loves the ewe

And God loves you

 

C L Couch

 

 

Photo by Om Prakash Sethia on Unsplash

Bhubaneswar, India

“Her life lines.”

 

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Solacing

Solacing

 

I’m tired, but it’s the kind

Of tired that comes from sleeping for

A while,

Waking up and wondering what time it is

The clouds and unspring-cool help

This along

But it’s not unpleasant disorientation

I know I’ll rise

And this day will happen

 

Coffee and toast,

The closest thing to routine

It seems allowed

A normal day, what’s that?

I couldn’t tell you

I don’t fear boredom but

I fear being dull

Like the poor boy Jack

 

Life should have sharp edges not

For cutting but for

Carving toward brilliance

As if whittling wood could

Somehow make a diamond

 

Nature says hello

Me, too

I hope we both cooperate

I’d like you to have this day as well

 

C L Couch

 

 

(smoky diamond, public domain)

 

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Home Keys

Home Keys

 

I know who I am

Do you?

It’s not a challenge

Maybe

 

Maybe it’s a way to say

That if we talk

And as we listen,

It will go better if

If you have some understanding

Who you are

Me, too

 

C L Couch

 

 

https://pxhere.com/en/photo/627056

 

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Fairytale Ending

Fairytale Ending

 

As we read more

Learn more

Or seek the next sensation

We know they ended poorly

Tragically and violent

The ancient tales

Who sanitized them, I don’t know

Not Grimm, maybe Perrault

And Hans Christian Andersen who wrote

His own

Let’s not fault him

The contemporary cleaning crews we know

Let’s not revile

Who doesn’t wish for happy ending

Really, if you could craft your own

If you could have the one

If you could have the promise

That the next day will be better than

The present

While the one you have today is pretty good

Wouldn’t you

I would

I think you would, too

 

C L Couch

 

 

Por MykReeve on en.wikipedia (edited by Aqwis) – Image:Broadway-tower-cotswolds.jpg, CC BY-SA 3.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=2575797

 

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Ode to Small Things

Ode to Small Things

 

The toast has jumped

Thank you, toast and toaster

Those who made you

Then

Those who made you

 

Let’s have an ode to

Every small thing that’s good

Typing

Lids that unscrew

Peanut butter

George Washington Carver’s inventions,

The ones that were never made

 

You and me

And each one of us,

Small upon the planet

Large in worth

And skill

And gratitude

For being made

And someone of us who

Might fix everything

 

C L Couch

 

 

https://pxhere.com/cs/photo/590878

 

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By Halves

By Halves

 

When we are revealed

In diaspora

When we are outcast

Of Earth

 

When all we have is gone

Used up to stay alive

 

When there is nothing more than

Scant hope, threadbare-blown

 

Then we might turn to each other

In remembrance

Of promises we never

Broached

Wishing we could know each

Other now

 

C L Couch

 

 

halves

File:Wstega macha.png – Wikimedia Commons

commons.wikimedia.org

 

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Petition

Petition

 

While I slept, I slept

It’s not so easy anymore

Being tired isn’t enough

I need to know something was

Done

While I was awake

Nothing monumental

Something small will do

Something small I might have done

For you

 

C L Couch

 

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n.b.

n.b.

 

There is nothing to say

That hasn’t been said before

But if I feel something new,

I’ll try

With what I have

To say what to the world

Is the same old thing

 

C L Couch

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