Earthquake in Indonesia

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Earthquake in Indonesia

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Pray for the souls

Of victims

Dead and living

And the

In-between

We don’t understand the hundreds

Because we are not there

We’ve seen pictures

These are not enough

What would we see for real?

What would we smell?

What would we taste?

What would we be allowed

To touch

And whom?

And all the misery

We’d hear

From the keening of the living

And the demons overhead

And underground

That scream a victory

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Nature is corrupted

We’re claiming the win

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C L Couch

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Boy, 6, pulled alive from wreckage of Indonesia earthquake

Story by Masrur Jamaluddin • 1h ago

https://www.msn.com/en-us/news/world/boy-6-pulled-alive-from-wreckage-of-indonesia-earthquake/ar-AA14sWsL

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Photo by Chris Zhang on Unsplash

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Please Pass the Pray

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Please Pass the Pray

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Welcome home the victims

Heal the victims here

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Quick prayer for those who died

And those who are wounded

And still here

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Something in the house

Or in the car

Aloud or silently

It counts

The most basic ask of intercession

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Like asking God

Be with whoever’s involved

In that emergency

Who are these people?

Someone knows

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What is needed by way of comfort

Or of sutures

Or of passage?

Someone knows

We don’t know

Maybe we don’t have to

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Prayer is involvement

Even anonymous

That works

We may not know the outcomes

That is faith

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C L Couch

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Photo by Mikhail Volkov on Unsplash

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Photo by YANGHONG YU on Unsplash

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walkabout

walkabout

 

bildungsroman

coming of age

if this happen later,

we call it a midlife crisis

three score and ten

we want more time for

the journey

we’ve been on, anyway

 

but differently—

might we walk this together?

we are barriered by language

and the need for utterance

but on the inside, there is distance, too

what is willed

what’s autonomic

the bits of meaning that become

our thoughts

we are alone and alone

 

parts everywhere

like a hardware store

(no, won’t say a junkyard

though I like the yard’s aesthetic)

I could say garden

or department store:

the idea is that everything’s in pieces

and there are connectors

 

bolts

screws

boxes in rows

fertilizer

(mulch)

ligaments

and neurons

so everything is disparate

and it’s not

 

if you take my hand when I pray,

the praying’s shared

we can share over distances as well

and when we say we die alone

I wonder

you may wonder, too

everything might go together

so much more than we know

 

c l couch

 

 

Alto del Perdón (or Sierra del Perdón) on Saint James way

Loutre1980 – Own Work

 

Canada on Fire

Canada on Fire

 

Wish it were an idiom

Expression of fashion

A bon mot, small jest

Here

 

But the country burns

In unbordered reach

Of untamed fire

Destroying all that

Lives: dissolved into

Libation for a demon’s

Thirst of unsatisfied

Flame

 

With all we have and

Are—think, feel, pray,

Help

 

Reaching must meet

Rescue,

 

Our community rain

Life

Pray for Fiji

Pray for Fiji

Pray for Fiji.
I cannot go.
I don’t know how to build or
how to advise others how to do it.
I cannot send money.

It seems so small,
but I can pray.