Ex-Temporaneous

(x = space)

x

x

Ex-Temporaneous

x

It’s a dark day

Not enough for a

Ritual outside

And there’s rain

The sun tries

To come through

In patches

Dark hours nonetheless

x

That might be spent

At midnight

In the loft,

A vigil

And an offering

Prayer life in the dark

Ages behind that

x

Maybe a candle

Of the kind

That does not curse the darkness

But slices through it

If in, well, a fuzzy way

Batteries included

Diffuse Light and shadow

Diffuse

With unscripted words

Everything

Partnering

For the message

For the words

x

C L Couch

x

x

Photo by Zoran Kokanovic on Unsplash

x

After Evening Service

(x = space)

x

x

After Evening Service

x

We could keep vigil

On toward midnight

When the new day is called

x

A horn might be too much

But inside the church

The organ might be released

To greet the day

Subdued for lateness of the hour

Wanting to be good neighbors

Give our hearts some quiet room

As well

x

I guess “midnight vigil” sounds

A quiet thing

To us

I’m sure in other lands

It does not go that way

There are noisy fanfares

Calls as announcement

Calls to prayer

Calls to say

(to play)

Even to shout

x

This is a new day

Of the Lord

And the Lord’s creations!

x

C L Couch

x

x

Photo by Adrian Dascal on Unsplash

Washed Away Night

Midnight in Saint George, Romania

x

Evening Hours

(x = space)

x

x

Evening Hours

x

Tonight, somewhere

Vespers will be sung

x

Then maybe at midnight,

Those keeping vigil

In a circle

In a loft

Will utter prayers at midnight

For the sake of the new day

x

That this midnight

Will mean Monday

Though it could be

Any day,

Any set of twenty-four

Dedicated hours

x

All our sundials

All our watches

All our singing

As God wills

x

C L Couch

x

x

Photo by Casey Horner on Unsplash

x

Witchening Hour

Witchening Hour

 

When it’s the midnight hour

On Hallowe’en

Nothing, it’s simply the start of

Another hour

I want witches to appear

And magic manifest

Strange lights and an open doorway

Never there before

An hour for the ghosts to dance

While all of us in costume now

Unmask

The thinness torn

Between two worlds

Maybe mortal folk can

Sashay with the eldritch

 

The thing is that

It might not be terrifying

Simply extraordinary

Occult as in unknown alone

Conjuring an honest gathering

For all of us

To bear an hour

 

C L Couch

 

 

Image by joseph_Berardi from Pixabay