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I know who I am
Do you?
It’s not a challenge
Maybe
Maybe it’s a way to say
That if we talk
And as we listen,
It will go better if
If you have some understanding
Who you are
Me, too
C L Couch
https://pxhere.com/en/photo/627056
At 5 a.m., How and Why
God
You are there
And I am here
The distance between us need
Be no more than a filament
The breadth of a capillary
A pulse between two nuclei
Or the space can be
The width of a world
That has more to do with me
Since no qualifying of divine will stands
Beyond the condition you placed upon yourself
For a savior
One who redeems as God and a person
Flesh molded with spirit
Majesty in ordinary undertaking
To teach, to heal, to live, to die in innocence
And then all will returns
In death defeated
It is a Christian way to know things
It might not be yours
But to God
I wonder how you stayed the angel
Who took the knife from Abram’s hand
But would keep it in the Roman plan
To hack a cross together
Display one who dies because
A decision was made
In Sanhedrin and handwashing
Not for justice but for status quo become murderous
Abraham was flawed, so was Noah
So was Sarah, so was Isaac, so was Miriam
Yet you made them whole
As all were knit together
Except your child
Who was you and yet was not excused from execution
Out of innocence
How do you mitigate your will
And maybe you never do
You allow yourself to bleed
Blood and water, liquids running life
You could have changed it all, and you didn’t
Change a thing
I am amazed and horrified
And would never lift my eyes again
Except
You promise joy and peace
And whoever have I been to argue with you
I must be content
Allow for Easter
For greater pain unknown anywhere on Earth,
Which splits the universe
And renders understanding into splinters
Of crystalline grace
‘Til grace is all that’s left
With which you save
With which you drag us into heaven
From drowning in deep waters
Filled with tendrils from wary sources
Always ready, in fact plotting
To bring us down
Away from light
From one day into eternity
I don’t get it
I don’t have to
I am here
You are there
And here
Closer in than I shall ever be
My God
C L Couch
Photo by Dane Deaner on Unsplash
1982
My mother came home from the hospital today,
and I can’t handle the numbness from
exhaustion. She has the disease, and it’s going
to kill her, but I can’t help but wonder (bad
son) about my role in this. I try to cause three
meals a day to happen and earn enough outside
to pay some bills. My father has proved useless.
I guess no one is surprised, though every now
and then I hope.
C L Couch
Just a lost key by a popular running trail.
Ode to Small Things
The toast has jumped
Thank you, toast and toaster
Those who made you
Then
Those who made you
Let’s have an ode to
Every small thing that’s good
Typing
Lids that unscrew
Peanut butter
George Washington Carver’s inventions,
The ones that were never made
You and me
And each one of us,
Small upon the planet
Large in worth
And skill
And gratitude
For being made
And someone of us who
Might fix everything
C L Couch
https://pxhere.com/cs/photo/590878
By Halves
When we are revealed
In diaspora
When we are outcast
Of Earth
When all we have is gone
Used up to stay alive
When there is nothing more than
Scant hope, threadbare-blown
Then we might turn to each other
In remembrance
Of promises we never
Broached
Wishing we could know each
Other now
C L Couch
File:Wstega macha.png – Wikimedia Commons
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