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I'll talk you'll talk we'll talk

Category

Liturgies

Compass

(x = space)

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Compass

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1

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I hope it’s a good day for you

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You deserve it

And many more good days

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It’s a harsh world

In many places

Though there is goodness, too

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I know this;

I hope you know it, too

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You know, there is this notion

Called democracy, which affirms

The majority

And respects the minority

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It’s a good idea,

An experiment in many places

In the world

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Now we know the trouble as

A virtue comes

When the numbers are too equal

And the country is divided

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I don’t think this happens very often

x

But there is hype

And misuse of media

And people ready

To say this is what you think

And act on that behalf

That is not yours

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2

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I’ve let the demons in

Too often

x

I think they have a corner

There with maybe a side door

Or at least a tunnel

x

There are angels, too

Ready to speak to me

x

When I have been good,

I have listened

x

Then there are the times

When the demons did not

Have to say anything, for

I was ready for their

Entrance

To take over

All my good intentions

And let ego run instead

Throughout the house

x

And mischief,

Not the good kind,

Call it sin

Shall have its way

x

3

x

God is good

And blesses our food

Though that rhyme is hard

x

It’s important that we ask, for

It is not ours to bless

x

The request might be enough,

God not one, usually, to

Draw up

A piece of paper

For a deal

x

Though there have been precedents:

Moses, for one

And certain prophets’ calls

Toward redemption

x

But we are not they;

We ask for affirmation of small things

In which there is salvation

For a lifestyle,

x

Not because of word and rock

That are delivered from a mountain

Or ravens

Delivering our meals

x

We are who we are, and

We are loved

Even when we’re sure we’re not—

In fact, more so in such times

x

It’s not satisfactory, I know;

And who asked for free will,

Anyway?

But while we have it

And we’ll always have it,

Remember that the soul and heart

And mind

Is where it happens, first

x

Remember, too, to advocate;

Our model is the

Spirit

Who gathers nothing,

Sometimes only promising a wilderness

x

But cares

And loves

As we should care and love

x

D. C. al Coda

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Coda

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I hope it is a good day for you;

I’ll pray for this

And, yes, I’ll pray for me as well

x

More so, I’ll talk throughout

The day with God

And into night,

Though I have no skill

Or canny insight

Worked uncannily

x

I am simply me,

You are you,

And God is God

x

Always present,

Not a trick,

Too often beyond—

Specifically for mortals—

Understanding

x

Have a care for mischief,

Though sometimes

Things are funny;

And the only thing to call up

Is some laughter

x

Laugh with God

Who invented humor

And in a healthy way

With each other

x

C L Couch

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Photo by Sunil Ray on Unsplash

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made manifest

(x = space)

x

x

made manifest

(for the USA and everyone may read along)

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in this country where we

pander to the rich

so that we might keep

our jobs

x

in which we patronize

the royalty of other

nations

x

where are we with our own?

because there should be

no one hungry here,

no one who cannot easily drink

safe water,

where no one who wants a job

can’t have one,

where shelter exists for

everyone,

where there is some assurance of

peace,

where everyone can breathe

x

this should be our nation,

the greatest on the Earth

we say

but then

we can boast

a model to the other lands

and take action for all needs

x

and all of us

on planet Earth,

thinking of launching for

other places

x

c l couch

x

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photo by Ben Hershey on Unsplash

SoHo, New York, United States

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Sabbath Invitationing

(x = space)

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Sabbath Invitationing

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We meet God outside,

Invite God into church

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God might come

But there is busyness

x

God means it—

We don’t know what to say

Except Thank you

Then move inside

With something like

Haste

x

Why should we feel guilty?

We invited God to church

And God said no,

Well, said maybe after

Busyness

x

We’re not sure

We see the lesson here

Or anything prescriptive

x

We can take it up

At lunch after, certainly

x

By the time we go to church again

In case God

Is there again

x

C L Couch

x

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Photo by laura adai on Unsplash

Trentino-Alto Adige, Italia

summit

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Assignment Earth

(x = space)

x

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Assignment Earth

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A return to three dimensions,

Grace is brief

x

It splits through time,

Calls to the source,

And invites us there

While claiming in the world

Surprise and alteration

x

Miraculous intervention

Owned by none

But gives of itself

Until what it bears is gone

x

A life changed,

Spirit re-knit,

A reason to go on

If not in gratitude

Let alone astonishment

x

Maybe something to think about,

Maybe only forward motion

x

C L Couch

x

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The photograph was taken by Joseph Schultz, my nephew.  He enjoyed a job with the Fish and Wildlife Service on Midway Island and now lives in Wilmington, North Carolina.  The world is his future.

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Wording

(x = space)

x

x

Wording

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Magic in words

A phrase I’m sure that has been said

In many times and places

Media

Many languages

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For it must seem that way

The way words can turn things

I suppose like many things

They have no value

Until applied

Character in the one

Who speaks or writes

Agenda, too

An open one shows fortitude

The hidden one a kind of cowardice

x

They can start wars

In fact, we have to say

They are declared

Then words are needed, after

In treating peace

x

There is so much more to say

Your turn

Use your words

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C L Couch

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Photo by Damon Lam on Unsplash

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Shipwreck of State

(x = space)

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Shipwreck of State

(in pandemic time)

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By the way, the highest number

Of cases was reported

Yesterday

But this mass lack of perspective

Child’s bid for attention

Ersatz use of masks

x

We don’t want to care, anymore

We have sick to care for

Too many dead to bury

In decency,

Though we’ll try

x

It isn’t that important,

The thing inside white buildings

In the capitol,

State houses similarly infected

x

There is disease,

And there is disease

Politics aside—and that’s it, isn’t it?

Putting aside what is

Supposed to serve us

With our money

With our votes

With belief

x

We have lives to deal with

And lack of life to mourn,

x

Which is the real nation

That like church

Means all the people

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C L Couch

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Photo by NOAA on Unsplash

Bow of the TITANIC

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What We Will

(x = space)

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x

What We Will

(6 January)

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I don’t have anything

For you, but

There is this:

There is a story

x

It is winter, now;

We have passed Twelfth Night,

The yule log is expiring

In the manor home,

Epiphany will have

Its celebrations;

x

Winter, then, will be

Full upon us

In the north;

x

And it will be, between

Any festivals, such a

Good time for stories

And storytellers

x

Who should be invited

Then blessed on their way

To comfort others in

diverse ways.

x

Should there be no tellers

At hand, then we must

Become them—every group

Has a story,

After all;

And if yours has none to tell,

Then write it

(there will be a text

for now, for later on)

And then tell it:

x

Hear it, everyone!

In the north, it is

Such a good time for this.

x

C L Couch

x

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Photo by Lance Anderson on Unsplash

Akron, United States

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The Arrival

(x = space)

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x

The Arrival

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My people don’t believe

In me,

And I am sad

And I am vengeful—the

Only thing allowed to be

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I shall find them In their lairs

And look for justice,

Any sign of righteousness

Because

I am all mercy as well

x

I stay my hand

And also bring it down

x

I’d rather they live in paucity

And peace with Earth

And each other,

Leaving the world no worse,

If not better,

When a generation’s

Done with it

x

Creation is renewable

As it is sustainable,

x

But I have other children;

Here,

I have placed a point

In time

For an arrival

And the last catastrophes

x

I wish they would be good,

I wish they would believe,

x

I wish that judgment

Perfect in me

Could be a happy process

When all of us are here

At last

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C L Couch

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Photo by HKTreks on Unsplash

Comet NEOWISE

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Remembering 28 December

(x = space)

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Remembering 28 December

(in liturgies)

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Yesterday there was a lesser feast about

The slaughter of the innocents

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Frankly, I don’t know how to bring

It up, the murder of many children or

The killing of one child

Two years old or younger

x

How does one speak to that?

How does one do it, in the first place?

The answer is, one doesn’t

But tells soldiers and slaves to do it

x

The children are only

Targets, after all, unreal as people

If we never look at them

Or what we commanded

x

Being Idumean,

Herod might even have considered this

An act of war against

An enemy Jewish people

x

But we are right to say

That it was local genocide,

Even of boys the

Killing of a generation

x

Foes from which there would be

No reprisal,

No fighting back would be

Expected

And thus a tactically successful

Maneuver and campaign

Designed by a crazy person who

Had the kind of power

Democracy should slay

x

God would address the Herods

Later on:

You don’t really think

Herod and his would

Get away with murderous

Abrogations?

x

We cannot count the children;

We do not count them now,

Though so many

Live inside danger

x

They are not wood or cardboard—they

Are not shades behind

A chain-link fence or

A craftier, a solid-seeming barrier

x

They starve, they bleed,

They cry as a divine signal

To the rest of us

x

Listen to them, see to them—in this,

The parents are the world—and

Then we can rightly damn

All Herodian kings

x

C L Couch

x

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Photo by insung yoon on Unsplash

Saemangeum-ro, Gunsan-si, South Korea

Solar Eclipse

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Matthew 2:16-18

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Acts 12:20-23

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According to documents and legends, Herod the Great and Herod Agrippa (grandson) both died lingering and painful deaths.

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