Remember to Remember

author’s note:

“I learn by going where I have to go.”
                  --  Theodore Roethke


THE CAVE BECOMES A CATHEDRAL

The strong steady light
resides in the depths
of my dark cave

but I often forget--

though I receive flashes,
the strong steady light
usually works quietly

so as not to evaporate
the bullfrog’s
beaded moisture,
so as not to rip
my night’s vulnerable silk

--works quietly,
so as to draw the dove down
to settle
on the steeple.

Even so,
when I listen closely
I can feel
my light vibrating
with bee sweetness

even as meteors
blast open craters
in the wheatfield outside
and a keg big as the moon
floods misery
over the innocent stumps
of spring trees.

This light still hums
sweetness because
it does not lay blame
--as such, does not need
forgiveness.  My light sees only
light.

Ah, but this light teases--
shies away in the darkness--
rejects my desiring grasp:
I must earn my light.  I must

satisfy my desire

so I go searching

when I think
I catch a glimpse of it
in a nebulous gas glimmer
over a brackish swamp.
Or see its flare disappear
in the corner of my eye.

I can be driven mad
by the ache to find
where my light has gone.

Sometimes an erratic beacon
from a mountain top
pulls me climbing
until I’m either burnt
or raw

still the light seems
so far off.
Sometimes I believe
this mischievous light
has tricked me by hiding
among the night stars.

I know for a fact
this light refuses
to deflect bullets
from me.  This light tells me
I must patch myself
then set splints for others:

work, work--always more work.

Yet, even then, I have no guarantee
my striving will ever end--
will I ever reside full-time
in the center of its lotus?

This light, when seen in a certain light,
appears ruthless, merciless

--but though I sometimes curse
what seem to be incendiary tactics

I still feel protective towards
that lonely candle.

Yes, this light can seem
as capricious as the wind...

but when I finally realize
that I’ve lost my eyes
--in such dark moments--
I remember to remember
where my light lives.

After such bouts

the cave becomes a cathedral.

Sometimes
I must go
the wrong way
if I’m to arrive
where I must go.

My modesty is not false--

I really don’t think
I’m supposed
to talk about my light
and so, I wish to do so
only in a manner that raises
the light

and admits of my subservience.

© 2009, Michael R. Patton
earnest audio
myth steps