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Genesism

(x = space)

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Genesism

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We were thrown out:

Don’t blame Eve,

I don’t;

The serpent could have

Just as easily

Caught Adam first

And both fall

After choosing to take bites

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And if you believe

The woman had such power,

Go ahead—I

Wouldn’t stop you

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Did they see the angel,

Looking back?

The orange or the yellow

Of a blade on fire?

Feel the heat?

Did they know for sure

They must go another way,

Not to return

For ages?

x

Well, they were given

Clothing,

They were given curses

Also callings,

They knew what they’d have to do

To live;

And so with their descendants,

So with us,

The myth goes on

For hunters and for music;

We build a tower

To do better than the curses

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The tower falls;

We cannot speak to each other,

Anymore

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So we build in separation;

Cities rise

And as must follow

Empire:

Strong people rule somehow

And we let their children rule

x

Was it worship

Or respect

Or indifference?

We had our farms to tend;

Soon there would be machines

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We raised walls

To keep ourselves upon the plains,

Set outposts in the mountains,

Surrounded waterways,

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And with food

And bright blades

Secured the promises

Of generations

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Nation went to war

Against nations;

Many gods were worshipped,

Some directed

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We have stone

And paper manuscripts

And ruins upon ruins

That are testimonies

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And are we rising?

We hope so;

There are awful, lateral movements

And descensions—call

Them massacres,

Call slavery,

Call rule by one

With only one served,

One living well

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Democracy is rising;

Call it something else;

We keep at it

x

How about

Soon we grow

Without anything but growth?

x

After-Eden flaws remain;

Maybe we’ll understand at last

Divinities approving

Of mortality,

Mortal accountancy

In meeting needs,

Accountability,

Repentance,

And renewal

x

Rockets go toward the moon,

Soon with people

Who will stay awhile

While we aim for Mars,

Send rockets to the rest;

We hope the Voyagers

Will find friends

x

We’re not perfect,

We’re not even better

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If we keep our flaws,

And we own mortality

Then we’ll do all right

For legacy:

The joy in now

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C L Couch

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Water, Light, and Long Shutter Speeds

Photo by Ahmad Dirini on Unsplash

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Wintry Weekend

(x = space)

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x

Wintry Weekend

(in the forecast)

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God

Help us

On a Lenten Friday

Fish Friday, maybe

Yum

Or only the side dishes

To be abstemious

For the season

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Seriously,

It is a somber time

I wish it could be

A quiet time

With normal noise

Children play

Dogs bark

Tires pressing normally

Go by

On the street

x

You know,

It’s the grownups

Who need help

Who need to understand

The opportunity

The chance to know God better

In the season

x

Why forty days?

I think largely because

Of our

Jewish parents,

If I may say parents

And the time of forty years

Spent in a wilderness

Moving toward

A promised land

Regrettably,

To conquer

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I think Jesus

If he were

A good, Jewish man

Would know the

Number forty

Use it to count the days

In his own

Wilderness

Of silence and temptation

Before the promise

Of a ministry

Begins

x

And we wayward

Children

(grownups)

Maybe count forty, too

To have a season

Many days

To get to know you better

And all your children

Generations

Now

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C L Couch

x

x

Photo by Jacob Felix on Unsplash

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Paradisal

(x = space)

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Paradisal

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God, love us

From afar

And in our cells

From walls to nuclei

Better than gravity

Your affection

Keeps everything together

Not that the loss

Is chaos

Everyone needs chaos

From time to time

But you know that

You know us

Made us for chronos

And for kyros

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In time

(both kinds),

We shall know all

Certainly beyond

The truth, beauty of Keats

We’ll know the beauty

In rushing fear

As well as the bridge

That rescues over

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We’ll have something

Of the knowledge

You meant

To bend the tree

In its own time

And yours

And ours,

Once ready

We’ll have it right

And better yet

We’ll know the love

The makes it

And respects it

Living the lessons for us

x

After the nightmares

When dreams lead

To healing wakefulness

New plans for action

We may make

Together

All togetherness,

The good

The sanctioned

The unplanned

That makes a heaven and an

Earth

At first

At last

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C L Couch

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Yellow Leaf Mid-Air

Photo by Sandis Helvigs on Unsplash

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Salutation

(x = space)

x

x

Salutation

(meaning health)

x

I hope this is

A good day for you

You deserve it

I know it’s Monday, but

It is as full of opportunity

As yesterday

Tomorrow

And the next time

x

I’m not saying

Everyone has the same

Opportunity, because

In no way

Do we all have the same

I wish we did

x

But the hours are

Ahead of us,

And the moments of now

Have arrived

What shall we do, not

To pass the time

But to make it

Into something that is

Prosperous and peaceful,

Ancient wishes

Rendered imminent

For all of us

Here and now

x

C L Couch

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There is a good book by Henri Nouwen entitled Here and Now.  And by Jean-Pierre de Caussadethere is The Sacrament of the Present Moment.  Each book is brief, imperfect, yet brimming.

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Nobility of Time by Salvador Dalí

(photograph) by fabiolah, CC BY 3.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=51922306

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Easter Saturday

(x = space)

x

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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

x

But now the bunnies

That lay eggs

Must return to their

Warrens of marvels

While the quotidian battle over

How much chocolate

Resumes

x

Many-colored eggshells

Will be swept away

With plastic grass

Found throughout the house

‘Til Christmas

x

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

x

Before then,

Worn out from trafficking

In virtue—

Yes, I said it

x

It exists

In certain texts of the past,

I know

x

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

x

x

Photo by Sandy Millar on Unsplash

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Stuff of Life

Stuff of Life

 

I should say something about love

Because I know

Nothing special

You can read the book as well as I

Write in the margins

Receive advice from those

Who live it closer

It’s not a single set

There are swords as well as feathers

Lions and sheep

Living near each other off the page

In a vision manifest

Somewhere for real

 

For now, nature’s what it is

While we borrow from it flesh and blood and bone

Muscles protecting organs

That will work on and off for a while

Is there love in this?

I think so

Gifts of Earth

Set in motion long ago

With us, we with it, for a time

And we hope longer

 

An existentialist should have her way

This moment, this now

We can count on this

Live on it

Not for wages

But for the working of those organs

As the gift of now

Unbroken moment without contract

Though gratitude would be appropriate

And spices all the rest

 

C L Couch

 

 

Photo by Andy Holmes on Unsplash

 

All We Know We Have

All We Know We Have

 

The existentialists

Have it right

The Positivists, too

The Deists

(God sets the world in motion,

leaves it go

leaves)

The one thing they know

Is that the present moment matters

As if there were nothing more

There might not be

For conscience, there isn’t

Living for tomorrow

Worse, living for heaven

Was medieval mischief

If I want my serfs to work

For me contentedly,

Then I need assure them

Of eternity

There will be no pain, no sickness

No poverty, no want for

Anything (the present moment, again)

Work now, suffer now

Under my thumb

Heaven’s coming

 

Lennon’s song has it right

Don’t dwell on heaven

Don’t fret hell

There are consequences now

Don’t put off righteousness

Live as if

There’s nothing next

What do we know,

There might not be

There isn’t

 

If we go together

That is family

If not, then I’ll have my present

Presence

You’ll have yours

And it is a gift

Too easy? Sure,

And not enough

And it doesn’t mean to re-create

The world every moment

We have standards

And philosophy

This is philosophy

But there is now to apply

There might not be another

 

Work it in

Walk through

Go on

It’s what we know we have

 

C L Couch

 

 

Photo by Sung Jin Cho on Unsplash

 

Invitation’s Curling—Come in, Already

Invitation’s Curling—Come in, Already

 

If Christmas is the first day, then

This is the sixth

But then that makes the fifth

The twelfth

So maybe Christmas is its own

And then the following

Twelve days are tributes,

Are a season ‘til the sixth,

The magi

The baptism by his cousin John

The revelation by a dove

Of who he is,

Which is a lot of growing up in

Twelve or thirteen days

He was in a manger

Only six days ago

And soon, depending on the full moon

And the spring,

He will be grown and on a forty-day

Journey to Jerusalem

Such things will happen in that time

The biggest coming later

A cataclysm of the each and sky

Pierced by hammered beam

And crushing empire

The abhorrence of nature, even human

The death of everything

That had been hopeful

The death of him

The death of us

Any prospects in an honest joy of living

Then the count of days, only after

And by going back,

Really begins

 

But before so much of that

There is this

Half-season of Christmas

Sing the carols

Claim the gifts

Play and work

Burn the homely fires

Testify to this

The witness in each moment

Christmastide

The time no one will wait for,

That is wait for well

It has arrived

However romantic,

The darkness of anticipation’s passed

We are here now

This is the best where and when

We have

 

C L Couch

 

 

Photo by Sora Sagano on Unsplash

 

It Can Be Christmas Now

It Can Be Christmas Now

(for those who might be on to something not to want to wait)

 

It’s Christmas now

Might as well be

The markets are done

Some are marching on

Like soft-tin soldiers in a toyland

Hoping to go home

For a holiday

(deserved)

 

The discounts are deepening

But the first great breaths have breathed

And it’s a few to go

Up to the finish line

(God bless them)

 

It’s Christmas now

It might as well be

The season has a different name

Until the day christens itself a new time

For twelve days

A catechetical song

Says so

 

It might as well be Christmas

We could breathe into it

How many movies, songs,

And consecrations do we need?

 

We can have it Christmas

Regardless (and because) of our creed

Right now

 

C L Couch

 

 

Photo by Anton Scherbakov on Unsplash

GUM, Moskva, Russia

I was walking in the center of Moscow through the crowded fair and realized that some decorations look like small beautiful stars in the sky. Don’t you think so? 🙂

 

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