I talk you talk we'll talk






I don’t know what I’m doing

I know I often act misdirected

But where is the magic

The spotlight that tells me

I’m in the right place

And on the good way?


Came out of nowhere

I just heard that phrase used to

Sell something

A cliché, but it’s poetic


Out of nowhere, ex nihilo


But isn’t that how you create?

Out of nothing appears


To set new flesh upon a wound or

Fill a gulley in the desert with

Water unheard-of in the



Out of nothing I was made

The spark in emptiness that fused

A spirit to new cells,

And I am here

Though you’ve always been here


And I can’t say I understand that

How you are in the charges

Of my neurons

And the pulses of my heart

And over Earth

And through the universe of chances


Although I still feel useless

And pathless

For the Gethsemani contemplative

It was enough to know

Random instincts somehow speak to



That isn’t me

I’m not so smart

Or self-sufficient



He wasn’t, either

We both want to know

And what do we find out?

We wander an agnostic landscape

Step toward uncertainty

An answer in a


And for the next,



Will that do?

For us, it has to

And bold enough, if cautious

To go beyond the mortal shell

To tread in a fossil sea

To take a walk on Mars


C L Couch



Mars by Curiosity


Psalm 51 (one more song)

Psalm 51

(one more song)


Create in me

A clean heart,

O God


And renew

A right spirit

Within me


Cast me not

Away from thy



And take not

Thy holy spirit

From me



And some remembrance


My favorite part

Of psalms

We number at

One hundred fifty,

Paradox in fame

And intimacy


This are teaching,

Which means



We need God

For new creation

To point to


That in practice

Becomes science



I need God for more

And cannot

Question merit;

Good work matters

But grace invites



The chamber

Of my soul

Has many parts

Open for



I don’t know how

Spirit of God


And infiltrates


But my soul will take


When a spark of you

Is born in me


C L Couch

Psalm 50 (a song about un-ending)

Psalm 50

(a song about un-ending)




sing monastic

song throughout

the night


how do we

sing with

what’s not


been heard

in heaven’s



we practice

with tentative



for you are



our unto

the Lord makes



when on

an uneven



pleasing you

we are free

to turn


it is enough

for you


you are delight

we know

the joy

Psalm 48

Psalm 48

God Breaks Through


The day comes

When God breaks



When an open hand

Will not be


Withheld by grace

Or by design


We cannot bring

It down—release

Or entice it


Our timing has no

Meaning here


We should leave

It all alone


A mind ordains, a

Host obeys


The earth will be



Ready to be

Apprehended in


Capture and in



Day time and

Night time

Without time

psalm 4-something

psalm 4-something


too tired for capital letters

proper phrasing and

reliable numerals


I extend my hope

my hand is open


will I have it when I draw it back

will it be empty with some taken off

will it be an open plain upon which is


something of a gift

something to keep me going

source of sustenance

symbol of believing


even the lines on my palm

might tell me as they intersect

that patterns are really chaos

without some understanding


nothing gnostic or occult

no wise artificial secrets


only openness, like a hand,


when the act is fragile

ready to receive whatever

you place on me to do

Psalm 46

Psalm 46


A new world comes

And some would say

It’s here


By your hand, we might

Live in better days


The images we make

For politics or



Are wrung through

With shiny fakery


I think our new day

Will arrive,




When we learn to say

I love you to the ground

And to the air


And to the wind we

Cannot see but truly

Feel and have:


When we learn the

Value of unseen things,


We can say I love you

To each other


Then your new day is


Psalm 45, singing this song for you

Psalm 45

singing this song for you


I don’t mean to sing about the

Other, compelling as that value is


I don’t mean a covered-over me,

Secret subject I would rather

Talk about


I mean you, first—my friend,

Lover, maker, and my better


Half (so to say) except that you

Are all


Now, secondly, to you, who you

Are extended from the words


Were it not for you, there would

Be none of this


For all you are and what you are



The rest is not silence (should

Shakespeare wonder), not if

There’s Interacting


We are at this moment closer to

The one who, all-relating, started


The first process, requiring more

Than one

Psalm 44, a sleep-song

Psalm 44

a sleep-song


I nap and still am tired

Good, maybe I’ll sleep

Through the night

Napping was necessary

I was too sore and too


I could have stayed awake,

I guess,

Except I couldn’t


Will you still love me when

I’m gone away?

I mean, eventually I’ll

Be closer to you than

I was ever before,

Than I am now:


I like you and respect you

I seek to be near you

Is this ever enough to

Bring a dream of you

Or, dreamless, a

Long time of sleep

Because I’m loved


Throughout this night

That you have made?


I can hope so

Not because I’m smart

But because I’m yours

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