Witches Night Out

(x = space)

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Witches Night Out

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Tonight is

Walpurgisnacht

Witches night out

We need good witches

We need the magic

And the healing

That come from

Spells and herbs,

Fire over earth

And managed wood

All sharing stories from a sky

Of past and present

Drifting toward a future

Not quite writ

Or conjured

Not yet

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C L Couch

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Walpurgisnacht 2022

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introduced by Doctor Hilda Kring in my (our) college class Folklore and Folk Literature

Walpurgisnacht is celebrated ironically—as a Christian festival and observation and as an occult celebration, too; some take it to be a Christianized, pre-Christian holiday

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Photo by Ashwini Chaudhary(Monty) on Unsplash

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Alternatives

(x = space)

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Alternatives

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We get messages

From the front

It’s not our front

We read about Ebola outbreaks

That are not ours

Unsafe water

Not in our country

Well, there’s Flint

And all the systems that

Are going bad

But we have plastic bottles

And filters to shove under

Our faucets

Until our systems

Are repaired

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We hear of civil wars

In other countries

But they don’t happen here

Except for hate

Two parties at each other’s throats

And so much violence

On the streets

In schools

In homes

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We see, it happens everywhere

The devil’s stratagems

And our own

Inside us

Once we’ve stultified the good

And the alternatives

That the buzz inside our ears

Behind our eyes

Wherever

Telling us it’s too crazy

To imagine

To start

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Photo by Steve Johnson on Unsplash

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Earthy

(x = space)

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Earthy

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These are the scents,

what I smelled as I was

driving back from Pittsburgh:

coal and tar and asphalt

as if mixed together, a

smell I can recall from childhood when

in the city;

manure, may times, because

it’s planting time;

plant-life already grown and

emanating from blooms in trees,

perennials along the road;

whatever smell

a clear, cold sky possesses

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City of Angles and Approaches

(x = space)

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City of Angles and Approaches

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Steel city

Iron city

City of bridges

Renaissance city

First gateway

To the west

City of immigrants

City of technology,

Once heavy manufacturing

Collapsed

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City of

Corporate headquarters

Three wide rivers merge

The Allegheny and the Monongahela

Meet to form

The Ohio

Cargo moves from Pittsburgh

Down the Ohio

To meet the Mississippi

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City of

Great universities

And hospitals

Expensive housing

While expanding

City of neighborhoods

Old

Entrenched in the best way

And changing

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City of

Triangular streets

(those three rivers)

Midwest

Meets Appalachia

Mines and mills

Mostly closed

With careers and lives

Changing or still

Like statues without hearts

As well as movement

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Life must move

This great city moves

My childhood home

I leave and return

Come back, it says

Drive through the tunnels

And behold me

Take the funiculars

Again

Gaze at me from

Mount Washington

I am here

For so many people

I’m here for you

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(on the last day while visiting with family)

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Photo by Meriç Dağlı on Unsplash

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Metamorphoses

(x = space)

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Metamorphoses

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Exhale

Breathe through the eyes

On a blank page

Maybe the muse will whisper

Maybe not

Don’t we want

To take credit for our work?

I guess if we get help

Who’s to know about the muses?

They have nine names,

None of which we remember

Except Calliope,

The organ-like device

We used to hear at carnivals,

The quainter gatherings

In the USA

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Do the gods

Visit on us here?

We have reruns of Xena

But does Zeus

Accost women here,

Later turning them to swans?

Does Apollo drive a golden chariot

Across the sky?

Do the Eumenides

Offer or receive libation

On behalf

Of mortals

Or against us,

Depending on our decisions

And our actions?

They would have met the other gods

Those of creation

And the forest

And the desert

And the sky

The spirits of

The Olmecs

And the Toltecs

Maya and Aztec

The Anasazi

And the Pueblo

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I wonder how it went

When Jesus of the Europeans

Met the sun and harvest,

Weather gods

Of the Powhatan

Just outside of Roanoke

The colony

Where barriers met

Open trees

And waterways

I don’t mean to romanticize

The Powhatan had their problems

But to say the least

They were there first

They were here

First

I wonder how it goes

When gods meet gods

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Photo by samson tarimo on Unsplash

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Paradise Neither Lost nor Found

(x = space)

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Paradise Neither Lost nor Found

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It is not the best of times

Just now

I have to own that part

Of the Dickens

Narration

Too many sick

I know

And there is war

Infamous

Famously defended

I’d like to know the wisdom

Of the ages

Those who contemplated

Long ago

How to redeem the mind

And sanctify the heart

How did they do it

When we’re so

Smarter now

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How may I call up

Desert mothers

Desert fathers

My might I stir

My own kind of Celtic blood

That came to northern shores

And tried to have companionship

With nature and each other

Until organized, metallic

Factions entered

And took over

Slew what did not submit

Killed what submitted

Anyway

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That’s my northernness

I guess

I guess I like it well enough

I’d like to know yours

And what you have from the

Southern half

Because you might

Have that

East or west

As interesting

Exciting

The fascination of our differences

Shared in easy friendship

Easy joy

The direction points aren’t bad

Unless you make them

Points of dominion

Or points of fear

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Fear not

We can come toward each other with

Fingertip excitement

Passing through time

And sentiment

To share a call that says

The Earth is one

We are one

We are one and one and one

And one

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If she doesn’t mind, I’d like to dedicate this work to Judith Nilan who wrote so kindly of me recently and whose friendship is cherished by me and by anyone else who is her friend, I’m sure.  You should read her blog because it would be good for you.  Her blog address is https://stonefireblog.com/.

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Photo by Solen Feyissa on Unsplash

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Next Sunday

(x = space)

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Next Sunday

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I am nearly asleep

I can hear the voice

On the machine

Thanks to Vimeo and Livestream

And presettings

It’s a message about Thomas

And doubting resurrection

What we see

What we unsee

And believe in other ways

Don’t be afraid to doubt

The pastor says

He’s preaching about Thomas

Don’t hide the doubt

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That sounds

Savvy

We’re on an adventure,

After all

Before discovery, often there

Is disappointment

If not disbelief

Then we come upon the X

Not that we have to doubt

There are those who believe

From just off the map

‘Til X

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I thought

I was gone on walkabout

But he’s started talking

About treasure

An old coin

What to believe in

For faith

Doubt is real

Maybe necessary

On the way to faith

(or maybe having left,

walking back again)

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Liberty is a theme,

I think,

In that we are free to doubt

On our own mortal terms

And to believe

With the same set

Of qualities and variables

A search for faith in love

An end to war

Peace talks

At our table

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The singers rise up

The sermon’s over

Captions appear

Soon I’ll have to turn it off

Get on with my distant day

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Photo by Jiroe (Matia Rengel) on Unsplash

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Rick o’ the Wisp

(x = space)

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Rick o’ the Wisp

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Even so quickly may one catch the plague?

Olivia in Twelfth Night

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Happy Birthday, Master Shakespeare

Squire Shakespeare

William

Will

Will o’ the Wisp

I’m visiting my brother today

He has cancer

I’ll be you knew of cancer

Even called it that

(unlike in a later age consumption for

tuberculosis)

I can’t recall it from a play

Or poem

But then I hardly know them all

And as it is,

I’m tired and not thinking

Did Lear get sick with something?

Lady Macbeth?

Or the thane?

Was there a balm for the queen

In Merry Wives of Windsor?

Did all of us feel better

In the panoply of spirits

That concludes The Tempest?

Or were we simply reminded

Of a world that isn’t ours

Regretting

Or remaining

Chastely distant,

Keeping to our own?

Well, a

Happy birthday to you, anyway

I’m visiting my brother today

He has cancer

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Photo by Enrique Alarcon on Unsplash

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Peace to You

Now are the times of Orthodox Easter, Passover, and Ramadan.  Praying for blessings to all the faithful.

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Peace to You

(John 20 and elsewhere)

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Peace to you

The teacher showed up saying

Peace

If God appeared

In the room

We were in

Then words of peace

Might be needed

To still our hearts

And keep them working

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God shows up

In the room

Alive in every way

(later we’ll share meals)

Except in expectation

For we had thought

Never to see

Or hear the words again

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Scars from nails

And a spear

Maybe the marks of thorns

On the brow

God appears again

God with us again

Immanuel

The end of

Maranatha

Folk at the center of the world

May suggest

While those outlying

Hear the story

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There is life again

Three days’ waiting

We weren’t counting

We forgot

All prophecy

And understanding

Thomas,

God lives again

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Cross with Dove and Red Cloth in Pirenopolis, Brazil

Photo by Emily Crawford on Unsplash

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