(x = space,

because I can’t cut and paste

using the new WordPress editor—

grrr)

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Asking Questions, Desert Mother

(two poems)

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Asking Questions

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After the years,

Asking questions that

Could be left to children:

What do I want to

Be when

I grow up?

What do you want

Of me, dear Lord,

Or anyone (else)

Who cares?

How do I give without

Being taken in?

(okay, this question

more for the grown-up, maybe

embittered)

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And do we

Always ask these questions,

Or is it more rarefied

To do so?

Or simply strange

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There is a wider

World of happenings,

Some brutal and, well,

Simply bad

Though much of it

Is beautiful,

Inside and outside human

Flesh and in

The natures we’ve been given,

The nature of ourselves and

The nature of the planet

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These days, especially, it’s

Not hard to find out

What’s going on,

Though much remains

Hidden by

The agenda-hiders, which

Is regrettable

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All shall be known,

Eventually

And it might go hard

But, you know, for now

Let’s keep asking questions

Of ourselves,

Our world,

And of God

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Let’s take lifetimes, then,

To learn to ask

And then be satisfied with

What we learn

When asking,

Because we’re still outside the gate

Often forgetting there’s

Paradise nearby

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Desert Mother

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I have a sharp pain

In my foot

To distract me

From the headache

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I guess this is

Negotiation with the

Lord

Who made me

And tasks me

In such ways

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I am old

And beyond children

Except the ones

I talk to

In this way

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Whether or not I’m heard

I shall not know

Because I’m here

And they

And you

Are there

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When I am

In heaven, I still

Might not know how

The children of

Earth have done

Until you are old,

Then sleep

As I have done

And wake to me

And all the rest

Who have been waiting

For you

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And, yes,

We have other things

To do here

So will you

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C L Couch

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Photo by Michael Milverton on Unsplash

Wylie Bay Rd, Bandy Creek WA 6450, Australia, Bandy Creek

Sand Sand Everywhere

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