The Star

THE STAR

Years ago, realizing
how dead I felt
I feared for my life and fought
that heavy grayness--
I searched

for ways to breathe
spirit back into my heart:

I changed my room.
I changed my shoes.
I learned a new dance.

I tried the trendy.
Did the old things differently.

I read a book
that promised to help
but the author didn’t know me.

Every day
I talked to three new people

and felt like a stranger.

Every day, I sat down
to meditate for twenty minutes
and afterwards did indeed feel fresh

but only for ten minutes.

Finally, late one night
I stopped in a field of snow
and declared aloud:

sincere though I am
I can’t seem to break this wall
so I’ll surrender now

but though I accept defeat
I refuse to be weak
I’ll still work to become
the better human being
I dream of being.

That resolution
seemed to suddenly wake me
to a star high overhead:
a solitary brilliance
in the overwhelming black of the sky:
a spirit stripped of the nonessential--
just pure glowing light.

I realized then:
if this life
can give me such moments
I am blessed even in death.

A week later
or maybe a month
I woke in the morning feeling
a deep breath expanding my heart
and instantly understood:
the change had finally come--

while I wasn’t watching
the dead husk had fallen away.

A natural miracle--
one cycle ends so slowly
you may not realize
when it’s done
and another has begun.

Since that time
I’ve suffered many more deaths.

I keep dying because
I’m not as pure
as that star.
No, I’ll never be
yet something within me
won’t stop trying.

And in the course of continual change
ever so often I slam against
another stubborn gray wall.
Guided by higher instinct
I fight to break another dry husk

and at times, find
strength for the battle
by standing in an open field
and lifting my arms
to that clear star.

© 2020, Michael R. Patton
Poet, Heal Thyself: poetry ebook