An Odd Peace

(x = space)

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An Odd Peace

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Too much loss

Too long

Too much to rebuild

How can we face it?

But for the

Cessation of hostilities

That sounds official,

We can bear it

On our own

For each other,

Help the ones who can’t

To let them in at home

When home’s

Returned

Rebuilt

Re-welcoming

Known inhabitants

And guests

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If I woke up and

There were

Rocks outside my door

Plaster, dry-wall dust

On everything,

I’d feel a cry

If not a wail

Build up

And if there more

Blood and such

Then other instincts

Anger and assistance

While the

Keening is considered

A savage peace

For hearing nothing

Letting medicine

Take over

While I slept

Even through sirens’

Calls

The mermaid singing

The murderous intentions

Of humanity

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There would be

A day

I might walk through it

Would I be made to leave?

How would I be fed

The markets gone

And where are you?

Small parts

Of war,

And I would want

To resign it all

While also thinking

About a gun

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C L Couch

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Photo by Museums Victoria on Unsplash

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For Wednesday’s Children

(x = space)

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For Wednesday’s Children

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What could I wish

For Wednesday

But that peace be

Everywhere

That life be for

Discipline and contemplation

Invention

Exploration

That we have enough

And a little more to share

That we accept who we are

And go from there

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That we can be clever

And delighted

And united

That we are strong

Not for strength’s own sake

But for protection

And defense,

As we say defenses are

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That selfishness be understood

As good

As long as otherness count

As much

Maybe a little more

Because Thursday might come

For sacrifice

The highest form of service

And be human,

Love from the highest

That is God

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C L Couch

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Photo by michael podger on Unsplash

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Cynically Yours, Sometimes

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Cynically Yours, Sometimes

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It was when

I was reading an Agatha Christie

And someone near Jane Marple

Maybe a nephew

Said of her

She is the most cynical person

He (pretty sure it was a he)

Knew

And I thought

Cynicism might be useful,

After all

A quality to keep us sharp

To keep us skeptical

About what we know

And we perceive

In short, cynicism’s smart

And we are smart to

Apply the

Quality, hone it to a talent

On reserve

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C L Couch

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a companion piece to clcouch123.wordpress.com/2022/03/25/give-it-up/

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Christie as a young woman, 1910s.

The Christie Archive Trust, Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=96725181

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Precocity

(x = space)

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Precocity

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God

Help us

Every

One

Even

The bad people

Don’t help them

To be bad

Help them to be good

Instead

You know,

Like in

The Christmas story

Amen

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C L Couch

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Photo by Andreas Dress on Unsplash

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snow squalls today

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Slow Season

(x = spaces)

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Slow Season

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1

Lord,

It is Lent

Moving slowly as it should

Forty days or so

In a couple weeks, Palm Sunday

Triumph and then the Triduum

Days of friendship

And of torture

For our Lord

For you

Ignominy

Then death

Then in the earth

Like a seed that has no merit

As no growth is expected,

Behind a stone

In fact

Lent closes over

That way

While we wait

Not knowing

We should wait for anything

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2

Half the world is at war

My God,

What do we do to each other?

What grace is kept

Withheld

Like a body in a tomb

We’d try not to open

For fear of the revenant

We’d find inside?

Forgive us, anyway

Save us, anyway

By something so, so precious

That in the world we cannot escape

That finds us

Even though we say

Get away,

I want no part of you

Before the rooster crows

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3

And what is grace

But something sliced

Through everything

That it is as good

As if

Dispensed only through itself

No keepers on Earth

Not the church

(don’t think it)

Or the world

(won’t think it)

God’s surprise

Surprised by peace

And then delight

Don’t think it comes in

Any other way

It is wild

If there is timing,

It only knows its own

It comes to save

Better than a plan

Or pre-requirements met

Don’t ask except

To ask of it

That is all right

It can act as if it hears

The one releases

It can hear

And for our malaprops

And misinformed

Hears us, anyway

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coda

My people cry

I must respond

They ask badly

If at all

I want to hear them, anyway

I will respond

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Something like it

Says the Lord

In songs

And other prophecies

And the amazing grace

Of love

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C L Couch

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Photo by Christina van der Merwe 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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Give It Up

(x = space)

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Give It Up

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How childish

I sound to myself

When I think

Cynically

Cynical is futility

We have

Que será será

It is what it is

For defense

A shield from

Reality of change

Rather settling

Into the world’s wisdom

Trying on

The burden of

A chain

That has no chance

For change

No hope here,

Thank you

Only resignation

You want change,

Talk with

The cult meeting over

Somewhere

One side of the Galilean

Waters

Or the other

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C L Couch

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Photo by james ballard on Unsplash

Sea of Galilee, Israel

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Desert Talk

(x = space)

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Desert Talk

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A breeze

Does much good

A wind

Is too much

Nothing so severe

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A breeze

Under the arch

Encourages

Either rest or conversation

Encouragement to think

Or talk

To troubles

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Or of the wisdom of God

Known through

The prophets

And perhaps

Revelation

In the breeze

Under the arch,

In our talk

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C L Couch

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Photo by Dim Gunger on Unsplash

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Gift Exchange

(x = space)

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Gift Exchange

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A moment for a moment

An exchange for something better

If it had to be a memory

A moment when things seemed right

In the world,

Then I’d have to ask for something better

Something beyond me

Something good for you as well,

And the circle

That we are

And live upon

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C L Couch

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Photo by Kelli McClintock on Unsplash

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