Lord,

Lord,

 

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

Really

Out of nowhere, ex nihilo

Philosophy

But isn’t that how you create?

Out of nothing appears

Matter

To set new flesh upon a wound or

Fill a gulley in the desert with

Water unheard-of in the

Season

 

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

Providence

 

That isn’t me

I’m not so smart

Or self-sufficient

 

Maybe

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

Moment

And for the next,

Maybe

 

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

 

 

https://apod.nasa.gov/apod/ap040628.html

 

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

Presence

 

And take not

Thy holy spirit

From me

 

Transliteration

And some remembrance

 

My favorite part

Of psalms

We number at

One hundred fifty,

Paradox in fame

And intimacy

 

This are teaching,

Which means

Learning

 

We need God

For new creation

To point to

Art

That in practice

Becomes science

 

 

I need God for more

And cannot

Question merit;

Good work matters

But grace invites

Salvation

 

The chamber

Of my soul

Has many parts

Open for

Parousia

 

I don’t know how

Spirit of God

Invests

And infiltrates

 

But my soul will take

Arriving,

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)

 

hours

 

sing monastic

song throughout

the night

 

how do we

sing with

what’s not

 

been heard

in heaven’s

day

 

we practice

with tentative

skill

 

for you are

excellence

 

our unto

the Lord makes

sense

 

when on

an uneven

way

 

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

Through

 

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

Complete

 

Ready to be

Apprehended in

 

Capture and in

Understanding

 

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

Entertainment

 

Are wrung through

With shiny fakery

 

I think our new day

Will arrive,

 

Lord,

 

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

Manifest

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

Not

 

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

Worn-through

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