The Originals

The Originals

 

We create and re-create

We must do this,

I think

The way animals return

To reproduce

It’s close work and

Intimate

Actions in a studio

Or on the line

What might tragedy encourage

Into making

Or a comedy?

I’m not saying it’s a law

It’s not

Sometimes a commission

Even patronage

Sometimes, though, merely

A happy accident,

As is said but really happens

 

Call it invention

Or an invention

Making and remaking

What is made a complement

And compliment

To a living and a breathing

Sometimes fierce, sometimes

Fanciful

Planet Earth

 

With places in the cosmos

When we’re ready

Though we’ll probably

Leave too soon

To find the faces

That have been

Quietly challenging

Wizening with age

Maybe waiting

For the far more mortal

Upstart young

To launch

To find our way to you

 

C L Couch

 

 

Photo by Jenna S on Unsplash

“Painting the Summer”

 

After a Kind of Rain

After a Kind of Rain

 

There is hope

While there is good

We don’t even have to know

It’s more than half

We only need to catch a gleam

In the morass of kidnapped night

That better roles have

Abrogated

That was, I think, the war

In heaven

 

And if the hopeful glint

Is not in evidence

On the field or in a corner

In case our spirits are abducted, too

In the metaphor, we can close

Our eyes and in a better

Darkness recall

The light,

Which lifts the cause for metaphor

And story

More poetry, more narrative

We need more, we must have more

In case so much depends upon

 

By all means, this is not a call

For this

There is so much around

Barely a kick will stir it up from

Dulling dust

Or here’s a thought:

Create

Co-create

Strike an agreement with a muse

A long-term contract

Don’t worry

She awaits

With clarity even within

The rolls of night

Even before the end of

Stormy weather

Over one plain or another

 

C L Couch

 

 

Fahad Hashmi – Own work, CC BY-SA 3.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=40357621

Lahore

 

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