Devotionism

(x = space)

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Devotionism

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I talk with God

God talks back

Sometimes through

The trees,

As happened last night

When I went out

Encountering a roar

From a single tree

Near the garage,

A tree that always

Reaches

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With the wind,

Maybe someone

From someone

Wanting to take notice

Of the night

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C L Couch

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Photo by Florian Hesse on Unsplash

Vegårshei, Norway

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The Cost of Velocity

The Cost of Velocity

 

Wind is all around

Thanks to a machine

I’ll take it

Because sometimes if

We’re lucky, this

Is what we get

 

Maybe a mountain top would improve

Sensation

But like organic food, so-called

The fashion of the moment

Trips and climbs can’t be

Afforded

Time and money

Abrogated in favor of, you know,

Food (of any kind)

With the need to stay in place

 

C L Couch

 

 

Photo by Amanda Sandlin on Unsplash

 

Psalm 46

Psalm 46

 

A new world comes

And some would say

It’s here

 

By your hand, we might

Live in better days

 

The images we make

For politics or

Entertainment

 

Are wrung through

With shiny fakery

 

I think our new day

Will arrive,

 

Lord,

 

When we learn to say

I love you to the ground

And to the air

 

And to the wind we

Cannot see but truly

Feel and have:

 

When we learn the

Value of unseen things,

 

We can say I love you

To each other

 

Then your new day is

Manifest

Ruah

Ruah

I have a Hebrew
Book; it is
Beautiful

I don’t know Hebrew
(I, feeling like a fool,
Confess)
A few words translated,
Transliterated

Such as ruah
The wind,

The breath
Out of which
Our God
Creates

As I say,
Beautiful

31 January 2016 (in the global north)

31 January 2016
(in the global north)

I still wake up with jittery feelings. The sun is bright. The snow is melting down. Maybe I need it gone. But is that the boundary of my fear? I sit and look outside to see the beauty. I am inspired to come back and write a verse of two. Still, fear jumps inside me. At least it doesn’t leap. I’ll feel better, once I write a bit. Drink a hot drink, maybe take a pill or two pills. I know that on a good day my heart still operates in an iffy way. I know that what happened here was momentous. It’s momentous, still, outside. As in ancient Arabian architecture, I cherish space and righter light. Not simply looking out into amorphous glare. Rather the view of a virtuously bright and blue-skied world above with earth of desert browns beneath. Through arches made of genius and of grace, numbering the stars within each stone’s embrace.

I dream this is all easier, if not delightful, in a desert paradisal scene. Where arid becomes beautiful and free air moves through all, spirits borne and carried along. Maybe heaven’s healing wind will pause and wave upon me there, and I will feel and know something of the serene aspect of God.

Too much romance and earthly-bound, I know. But I need this. My fear frankly needs it, as does my hope and peace.