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healing

Virtually a Sunday

(x = space)

x

x

Virtually a Sunday

x

I pulled on a shirt for church

Only to have technology

Fail me

Or I fail it, more likely

Virtual church

I should walk down the street

Through wide doors

Greet people

Sit down upon the wooden and worn

Bench

Await the start of something formal

Or walk

And keep walking

Chill and sunshine

And have church that way

x

Pray as I go

There are things I want

To pray for:

My brother’s health

Cancer

My nephew’s healing

COVID

My neighbor’s heart condition

Another neighbor’s children

COVID in the world

(cancer, too)

The horrid war in Ukraine

War in other places

Where it’s horrid

(always horrid)

Yemen, Myanmar, Sudan

Or violence undeclared

Peace thwarted

x

For food for everyone

Safe water

Safe living

I guess I can pray all these things

While walking

Pausing for crosswalks

Maybe I prayed for them now

x

C L Couch

x

x

Photo by Susan Wilkinson on Unsplash

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Mud-Healing

(x = space)

x

x

Mud-Healing

x

Jesus didn’t need

Things

He didn’t need mud

To heal,

To draw in the dirt

To make a point

He didn’t need a drove

Of pigs

(poor pigs)

He didn’t need a feast

He didn’t need

The perfumed oil,

Though he adored

The one who gave it

I am sure

x

He didn’t need Martha’s

Food

He didn’t need Mary

At his feet to learn

Though I imagine

He was happy for

Her devotion

x

Jesus didn’t need

The Earth

Though he came

To save it

And to give

Too much

x

This was

And is

A God of love

x

When we love,

So many things

Don’t matter,

Anymore

And what does

We’re willing

If not ready

To give up the world for

x

Sacrifice

For service

For devotion

Life for another life,

To dive or run into

Dangerous waters

For rescue

x

C L Couch

x

x

(the sermon started in John 9, mud-healing)

x

Photo by Piotr Hamryszczak on Unsplash

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Walpurgisnacht

Walpurgisnacht

(30 April)

 

Eve of a saint’s day and

 

Something to do with

Witches and with German

Witches, I imagine—the

Good kind of witch, I’m

Sure

 

Not Charmed witches,

‘Cause they were silly

(After three seasons,

Anyway) nor the crones

With noses whose hooks

Could hold pots, so badly

Were they drawn

 

Maybe that’s why,

Starting at dawn, the

Television plays episodes

Of (so-called) real

Mysteries

 

Because tonight good

Witches are dancing in

Dark bulls’-eyed circled

Places with what light

They might extract from

The sentinel moon

 

Under which their sinews

Slide in pace to music

Unheard

 

Beseeching sky and earth

And fire with water held

In fashioned vessels

 

To love the world and

Give their healing magic

Potency to break feverish

Ills that make corrupting

 

Sickness of what men

Catch and spread when

Dealing in the day

 

 

Harz witch in front of the fire

www.niedersachsen-tourism.com

(see?)

31 January 2016 (in the global north)

31 January 2016
(in the global north)

I still wake up with jittery feelings. The sun is bright. The snow is melting down. Maybe I need it gone. But is that the boundary of my fear? I sit and look outside to see the beauty. I am inspired to come back and write a verse of two. Still, fear jumps inside me. At least it doesn’t leap. I’ll feel better, once I write a bit. Drink a hot drink, maybe take a pill or two pills. I know that on a good day my heart still operates in an iffy way. I know that what happened here was momentous. It’s momentous, still, outside. As in ancient Arabian architecture, I cherish space and righter light. Not simply looking out into amorphous glare. Rather the view of a virtuously bright and blue-skied world above with earth of desert browns beneath. Through arches made of genius and of grace, numbering the stars within each stone’s embrace.

I dream this is all easier, if not delightful, in a desert paradisal scene. Where arid becomes beautiful and free air moves through all, spirits borne and carried along. Maybe heaven’s healing wind will pause and wave upon me there, and I will feel and know something of the serene aspect of God.

Too much romance and earthly-bound, I know. But I need this. My fear frankly needs it, as does my hope and peace.

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