I talk you talk we'll talk



fit for Eden

(x = space)



fit for Eden


the egret spreads its wings

to the glory of God

its long neck and dagger beak

and claw will hunt

for Jesus’ sake

and in the spirit of the Lord

it will eat without thanks

all organs churning

in a Genesis of calling

and of impulse

the egret is its own sense of wonder

without apology

(either kind)

or gratitude

it because it is

because God made it so

then left it to the sky,

the water, and the land

a true denizen of Earth

the wonder and rightful holder of

first promises


C L Couch



A Great Egret preens its feathers at Freshwater Lake in Cairns Australia.

Photo by David Clode on Unsplash

Centenary Lakes Nature Play Space, Edge Hill, Australia


Angel Thieves

(x = space)



Angel Thieves


A metaphor

For God and God’s arrival

Is a thief in the night

A strange metaphor

But apt

(regardless of

negative connotation)

We cannot plan for the intrusion

While the thief doubles

The confusion of nighttime,

Which is to say

Without light,

It seems


But the thief may


And, I suppose, typically does

The mortal thief may or may not

Succeed in a theft,

Though we can surmise

That God as thief

Would do pretty well


But what would God have

To steal?

God made everything

And thereby own

Except one thing maybe

That is human will


Perhaps, then,

God comes to steal


Steal us away

As a rescue

Then take us to paradise

Where no earthly

Theft or other sort of brigandry

Can harm us


Where we are loved

Without shame or abrogation,

Where we might forgive

A thief who steals us

This way


I don’t know if we’ll miss possessions


Even the ones with stories

Maybe we’ll have new ones, maybe not

But as we are created in the image,

As is said,

We might have a share in everything

That lasts without corruption

Our new homes, our new bodies

Everything will last,

While life is perfectly dynamic



Angel agencies defend us

Angel agents thieve us home


C L Couch



Photo by Chirag Nayak on Unsplash

Shop 24, Ground Floor, Building TL5 Morning Glory, Tropical Lagoon Phase 3, Anandnagar, Ghodbunder Road, Thane West, Thane, Maharas


Returning Gifts

Returning Gifts


Praise the Lord

And all that is in me praise the Lord

Or something like that

How can I praise such a thing as God

When I am such a thing as me?

To God be the glory

How can I glorify

When I am so small,

And my voice is broken?

I know the story of the smallest angel

In the movie, Fred Gwynne as

Mentor angel talks of his mother’s

Brown bread, when all

Were mortal


But in the young one

(newly angelified)

There is purity

And innocence to give

As gifts in the small box emblemize

What have I like these?


And wouldn’t I look at you

To say there is so much

Because there is—I

Guess I need to understand

That everything with life has worth

Even if itself it were a gift

I can turn it over

(so can you)

And that’s the act of service

And of love


C L Couch



Image by Marc Pascual from Pixabay

The Littlest Angel by Charles Tazewell (1946)


the law of glory


the law of glory


who made autumn glorious?

a final, phoenix flourish before winter

who gave the colors

then must take them back

it is a way

with the discipline of divinity, I guess

I was not asked

I’d make it color all year round,

which would tyrannize the summer

and relegate winter sameness

to memory’s dust-catch

good that I’m not creator, then

I’d hash the seasons

(even in the south it would not be safe)

lose the patterns


remaking life in temperate parts


I’d wreck the year

and then we’d need a

God to save

when rescue is enough

most every day


quiet my reckoning, then

keep the seasons in-between as they are

let peace prevail in middlin’-parts

for better reasons


c l couch



Mehr News Agency – Golestan dabbed in Autumn colors


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