Wishing in Retrograde

Wishing in Retrograde

(after which the planet does return)

 

I don’t know

Everything seems stupid

What I’m writing, the images I’m

Looking for to go with it

(my looking, not the image-making)

If an apology will do,

I’m sorry I don’t have something better

And I want everyone to have

A good weekend

A safe weekend

In my nation, we’re expressing a split mind

On the one hand, everything is opening

On the other, the disease is worse than ever

Cases are spiking

Like a medieval mace in a museum

We’re number one for sickness,

Loss of life in the world

Like my state being first

For the worst roads

 

Is it any wonder

Other lands are barring us?

I wouldn’t want me, either

There are stories of break-ins into Canada

From the USA

Clearly, the wall is put up along the

Wrong direction

Having me think the purpose will be turned

Around, and from everywhere

We won’t be walling others out

But others wanting us walled in

 

Which isn’t everything, by far

The world is suffering

We should take a chance to help

Maybe our help would be accepted

You know, the WHO

And UN take us back

Maybe after Monday

In January 2021

The world will have us back

 

C L Couch

 

 

Photo by Paweł Czerwiński on Unsplash

 

 

 

Lord,

Lord,

 

I don’t know what I’m doing

I know I often act misdirected

But where is the magic

The spotlight that tells me

I’m in the right place

And on the good way?

 

Came out of nowhere

I just heard that phrase used to

Sell something

A cliché, but it’s poetic

Really

Out of nowhere, ex nihilo

Philosophy

But isn’t that how you create?

Out of nothing appears

Matter

To set new flesh upon a wound or

Fill a gulley in the desert with

Water unheard-of in the

Season

 

Out of nothing I was made

The spark in emptiness that fused

A spirit to new cells,

And I am here

Though you’ve always been here

 

And I can’t say I understand that

How you are in the charges

Of my neurons

And the pulses of my heart

And over Earth

And through the universe of chances

 

Although I still feel useless

And pathless

For the Gethsemani contemplative

It was enough to know

Random instincts somehow speak to

Providence

 

That isn’t me

I’m not so smart

Or self-sufficient

 

Maybe

He wasn’t, either

We both want to know

And what do we find out?

We wander an agnostic landscape

Step toward uncertainty

An answer in a

Moment

And for the next,

Maybe

 

Will that do?

For us, it has to

And bold enough, if cautious

To go beyond the mortal shell

To tread in a fossil sea

To take a walk on Mars

 

C L Couch

 

 

https://apod.nasa.gov/apod/ap040628.html