Sunday, September 15, 2013

The Good Fight

author’s note:

It seems right to end this poem (and many others) with the "..."

Because it--and the rest--describe a work in progress.


In the dream...

while crawling through the tunnel
I discovered this white alcove
--a slender shaft of sunlight
   coming from a fracture
   in the ceiling brick--

kneeling there
in the bleached dust
in the light, in the shadow
I felt so quiet--

that deep peace
more daunting than
the typical cacophony
of my dreams

and so fear begin to rise and I awoke...

nonetheless, I didn't quite lose
what I’d found:
the next day, whenever I thought
of that space underground
the usual blur of noise inside me
became just a bit less

but as a result
the threatening feelings
buried beneath the blur
became a bit louder;

no matter--
now, I'll gladly listen:

I'll take on all challenges
if, in so doing, I can return
on a more permanent basis
to that place of peace--

seemingly impossible, considering
what I know about myself

but I'm given hope
by the good news
I received last night:

I’m crawling down that low tunnel,
enveloped in darkness--
my progress
                 ever so slow

as I fight against the wind storm of my fear...

© 2013, Michael R. Patton

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Blogger Goldenrod said...

Every time I read this poem, Michael, I get a different reaction. Wild!

By the way, thanks for the link.

6:39 AM  

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