Eve X

(x = space)

x

x

Eve X

x

I cannot help

But love the evening

Maybe you feel the same

And in the quiet night

A miracle

And it can’t have been quiet

With the mother

And the father

And the animals

And the outside

Night noises

And yet the heart is quiet

Generally

When

There is the birth

To contemplate

In the dark

And after

Maybe

An extraordinary light

That might be candlelight

Or dawn

Or an inside

Sunrise

x

And it could happen

In an hour of

Any Christmas Eve

With apologies to mothers

And to fathers

And to animals

The wilderness

x

But we might need

Silent consideration

Of it all

And then to have a new day

In more silence

Or the noise

Of a wonderful

However illuminated

Day

x

Darkness

And light

Darknesses

And lights

We might need both

To understand

How a birth leads

To eternal life

Because it may

It does

x

C L Couch

x

x

Photo by Remy Gieling on Unsplash

Believer holding candle at evening church ceremony in Paris.

x

Anchorite Devotion

(x = space)

x

x

Anchorite Devotion

x

I cherish

Quiet in a cup

To drink

When I need some

Peace on a plate

When a bite is needed

Some silence in the air

But not so much

We cannot hear

The songs

Of earth and sky

The thrumming from beneath

To feel

The sighing from so high

We dare not

On an ordinary day

To try

x

A homespun layer

Maybe two layers

For the day

And through the night

A few words of friendship

And a few more

Then intimate,

Unspoken words

With God

x

There is a book

Of hours and another

Sometimes wisdom’s

In the page

In the part between

The letters

As well the illustrations

The space in which

We first learn

That blank space is the quiet

We may go there

Then to learn

About the mystery

The text

And images support

But can’t fill yet

As if to know the words

To speak with angels

And with animals

And with the air

x

All things the creator makes

To set in humming motion

x

C L Couch

x

x

Statue of Julian of Norwich by David Holgate, west front, Norwich Cathedral.

By Poliphilo – Own work, CC0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=19972764

x

Hear My Cry

Hear My Cry

 

A featureless sky that nonetheless tries to speak of snow

An unremarkable day in which the world

Might be saved through

A sky-sound,

A child’s word, or an animal’s cry

Something to break the kind of silence strangled

From an utterance of need and hope

 

C L Couch

 

For the Squeaking Door I Don’t Have

For the Squeaking Door I Don’t Have

 

I make noises like a squeaking door

When I get up from sitting cross-legged

On the bed, where I’ve been tapping

On the laptop surface that sits in front

Of me, there

 

I make the noises verbally, that is—for

Now, my joints are fine

 

I don’t know, it’s my way to speak into

The silence and the solitude: a way to

Say, I’m here

 

For all the world to respond to, which,

Of course, it doesn’t