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Easter

The Second Day

(x = space)

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The Second Day

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The day

After resurrection

Jesus appears to many

There is work to do

After the great miracle,

It seems

Affirming what Mary

Has said

Showing marks of wounds

To Thomas

Teaching, still

Cooking fish beside a fire

Talking about metaphors

Of sheep

Hoping Peter understands

Then after many days

Of words and signs

A leavetaking

Leaving instructions

Until he should come back

Having left a promise, too,

Of help

Like his

In fact, him still

This person will indwell

Like blood, like bone,

Like organs

Like thoughts and feelings

That’s pretty close

Inside

A guide

Someone to speak to worth

 A presence, bearing

Through the times

Of pleasure and of pain

The ease of life

The things we never think

To get through

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It’s a busy time

After Easter Day

There will be letters

Words

Greetings, admonishments

Compassion

Affirming of directions

These all will last

In the book through Revelation

Until, in fact,

Parousia

And the obvious way to do it

Spirit inside, outside

All partners now

Treading the new fields

Of new Earth

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C L Couch

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Interested Bunny waiting for food.

photo by Stefan Fluck on Unsplash

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Flesh, Spirit, and Everything that Matters

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Flesh, Spirit, and Everything that Matters

(for Easter)

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Good Friday becomes Easter

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Good becomes better

Good becomes goodest

Abandonment is over

The teacher has returned

And the homeowner

And we each have a place in that home

It is so large

And always adding

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The wounds are healed

There are reminders;

Mainly (surely),

He is alive

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There was no question that he died

We wept, we keened

We buried

There was a stone

There was a guard

There was no doubt in this

The emperors

And would-be emperors

Clinked their glasses

And sat back,

Sighed

That’s done

The conspiracy is over

Plot succeeded

And we can blame other people

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God and people are

Reconciled

Through life and death

And life again

The absurdity of the final miracle

Over death inexorable

Unavoidable

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And NOT forever

What?

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This is what we know

And now through resurrection

We must believe that

Death is not all

It is not inexorable

It is avoidable

We may die

We might sleep

If so,

We will awake again

How does this happen?

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It is God

Who has a part in us

Who made us

Who is spirit

And flesh

And everything that makes up

A creator

And a lover

And a savior

Immanuel from Hebrew

God with us

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We walk a bridge

That wasn’t there

God is on the other side:

In fact,

We can find out

God is on both sides

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C L Couch

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Photo by Joshua Sortino on Unsplash

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Vacant

(x = space)

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Vacant

(Holy Saturday)

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A day for scurrying

Like mice in light

Look for food,

Hide, rest

Listening for the next

Sounds that are not yours

That might be coming for you

Or might give you away

Now add on human sadness

The living of a tragedy

Like Oedipus,

Antigone

No happy ending possible

The hero is gone

The extraordinary years are gone

There is nothing now

But flight from arrest,

Weeping as at Babylon

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Practicing tradition

In the dark

Since the source was killed

In horror

Sleeps without sleeping

Leaving everyone

To scurry to avoid arrest

To somehow persist

With broken hearts

Hope so far off

To be recalled

Stories torn

Healing forgotten

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We count this day

An in-between

They knew it only

As an empty,

Weeping nothing

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C L Couch

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Photo by Denny Müller on Unsplash

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Easter Saturday

(x = space)

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Easter Saturday

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I think it might be

Easter Saturday

On someone’s calendar,

The week having begun,

You know,

With Easter Sunday

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But now the bunnies

That lay eggs

Must return to their

Warrens of marvels

While the quotidian battle over

How much chocolate

Resumes

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Many-colored eggshells

Will be swept away

With plastic grass

Found throughout the house

‘Til Christmas

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As for Easter in our hearts

I’m not sure what

To say:

I hope we have it

As a feeling and an impulse

That doesn’t have to be

The Christian way

But simply good

Like contentment sighs

At the end of day

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Before then,

Worn out from trafficking

In virtue—

Yes, I said it

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It exists

In certain texts of the past,

I know

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Better still, inside-outside

Now,

Which works out because

Now is what we have

And all we have

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C L Couch

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Photo by Sandy Millar on Unsplash

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Saga

(x = space)

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Saga

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How could one approach the tomb

The great stone pushed aside,

The guards dispersed

And not think

Something awful

Maybe tactical

Has happened?

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To carry spices for another chance

To see the body that

Once housed the spirit

Loved in life

To hope the guards would help

Them get inside

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Stories vary

As they do,

But what is known by all

Is that he was not there

And did an angel

Or himself

Appear to tell

The first page

Of another story,

A new following

An invitation

To believe

To love, again

Once and forever?

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Angel or gardener

Or Christ himself appeared

The first day of a new week

After the Jewish sabbath

Followed by the faithful

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And what should happen next

But ages of crimes

For the new religion

Egos and errors

Chastising opinions,

Doctrinal matters?

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The movement thankfully

Still moves

With time to get it right

No universal way

Except for universal fondness

Of each other

And the stranger

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Still pondering

With too much inaction

Over the debate

Who is my neighbor?

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Good Christians, all, rejoice

Love this day

And each other

And the stranger

Love because

God tells us to

And in God’s perfection

Translated to mortality

For a while,

Our hope is in an Easter morning

Quiet, dark, bearing

An opportunity for faith

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Rejoicing, cries

Reasons to have faith

And celebrate

An Easter morning, day,

And night when it will once again

Be quiet

For our souls

And into Monday morning

When

Secular time takes over

And we live in faith

Inside a spirit

All our spirits

Breathing in the air

Of thanksgiving and

Holy opportunity

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A life of faith

And love

In all imperfect, broken

Forms and functions,

A life in which to say

Thank you

I love you

To God and then each other,

Easter morning inspired

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C L Couch

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Photo by Oumaima Ben Chebtit on Unsplash

Chefchaouen The Blue Pearl شفشاون الجوهرة الزرقاء, Chefchaouen, Morocco

old door

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Who Wins

(x = space)

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Who Wins

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An empty room

Where there might have been a meal

Smell the hope and then the fear

And here’s a garden

Pretty

There was violence here

Now the plot is done,

Everything realized

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Another foe

Who sought to shift the blame

From Rome to us

Our need to have an enemy

To stoke our places

In tradition

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The others should be caught

The followers

No hurry

The serpent is now headless

Only nerves remain

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The world has won

And we are glad

Our own strategy to overthrow

Goes back into a box

In which there is less silver

To count

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An easy price

To pay

For indolence

Now back to lethargy

We have time

And everything is scheduled quiet

Scheduled noise

Again

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C L Couch

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Photo by Daniel Katz on Unsplash

Masada

Lookout through ancient Masada building.

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Good for Someone

(x = space)

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Good for Someone

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He cried out,

Then death was quiet

Silencing everything

At last

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And was there keening,

I think so

For a time

Then silence imposed

By Jerusalem,

By Rome

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The Earth exhausted,

Unknowing  silence

That was a matter of salvation:

Now we say not dead

But sleeping

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Sin is quiet

For a time

(for three days)

Waiting

Wondering about

What will happen next,

What it should

Do

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Sin awaits

A guideline

Now that

God is dead

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Should there be smirking

Or a party by

The gates of hell

While Earth

And all humanity must wait,

Though we must think it’s over

Why might we think

Something new

Should happen now?

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We forget our stories

Let go all prophecy

We had our

King for a day

The welcome of a hero

Who has died with open wounds

Somehow bleeding

For the rest of us

New ritual

Or sacrifice of old

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A burial is proper,

If hurried

To be done by sunset,

Sunset all;

Wounded and sleeping

Earth is covered over

With a stone,

Setting a guard to

Keep it all that way

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Cruelty is tired

Everything must sleep

For a while, now

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C L Couch

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Photo by kyle larivee on Unsplash

New England, USA

it seemed like mother nature wanted to spotlight this fellow

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In Antioch

(x = space)

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In Antioch

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I walked by the campus

A few times

While visiting

In Yellow Springs

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I didn’t belong there

Though I wish I could:

A progressive place,

Sometimes angry

Famously

But with tradition

And understanding

Of good doctrine

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I’d like the hope

Of being there

In this week my sect

Calls holy

On a dark day

‘Cause the sun has gone away

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In Antioch,

They were first called Christians

Rather than followers

Of the Way

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The Way might have been

Better,

Less restrictive,

More inviting

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Not a club but a direction,

Not a t-shirt

But sandals and a walking stick

For all the deserts

Whose borders

We might come upon

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C L Couch

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Actions of the Apostles 11:26 (Christian New Testament)

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Antioch College, Yellow Springs, Ohio (USA)

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By Bernard Gagnon – Own work, CC BY-SA 3.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=12045971

Ancient Roman road located in Syria which connected Antioch and Chalcis.

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The Bridge to Thursday

(x = space)

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The Bridge to Thursday

(Holy Week)

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It is the middle of Holy Week

Who’s noticing

Who cares

Those huddled in churches

Mouthing with the pastor

Liturgies and litanies

All the holy words

And since it’s near enough

To Lent, there might be no

Communion,

Even practicing for Easter

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Some of the fun churches

(there are those)

Will bless baskets on Saturday;

All sorts of folk with

All sorts of baskets

Containing elements for

Sunday dinner

Will be there

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On the Friday before,

There will veneration

While on Thursday

An official working out

Of some kind

For the Last Supper

And the “maundy” part

Of Maundy Thursday

A command (mandatum)

To love one another,

Good reminder

For starting out the Triduum—

Or the rest

Of one’s

Of a church’s life

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But today is Wednesday

Nothing to see here

Or hear or taste or touch

No smell of

Incense, either

Wednesday doesn’t rate

Another hump day

In the USA,

Anywhere else that arches

The week that way

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Calm before the storm?

Hardly

There are storms, here and there

As happen

(one is brewing

outside the window),

There are the hungry

Who need big pieces of baked bread

And safe water

And more-real food

In order to sit up

Straight in church

For the coming days

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Feed the children

Feed each other

This would make a Wednesday, a

Holy Wednesday in a holy week

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C L Couch

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Photo by yvo bergers on Unsplash

Maastricht, Nederland

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