On Easter

author's note:

An Easter poem from my early days.

Am I a better poet now?  I don't know, but at least I can spell "flowers".

Interesting...I see how I've carried forward a motif: being cleansed and renewed by the waters of life that fall from above.

SOULTIME in paperback
© 2021, Michael R. Patton

A Woman Wrapped in a Blanket Ponders a Paradox

author’s note:

Who is this woman?  Many of us, at least. I believe: most.  Including me.


A WOMAN WRAPPED IN A BLANKET PONDERS A PARADOX

As I sit, cozy on the sofa
I begin to ponder the paradox
of this knitted blanket--

I’m covered, but exposed:
these loops of yarn are wide enough
for a scorpion to pass through.
Yet I feel safe
under this scanty wrap:

I’ve found a way
to fool myself
but I think that’s okay--
because in the evenings
I need some relief

from a world outside
that constantly threatens me
with potential catastrophe.

The irony is:
I’ve gone through
most of my days unscathed--
so perhaps I’m also fooling myself
by being so afraid.

But I hear of so many tragedies--
sudden unforeseeable accidents

and even if I could persuade my head
not to waste so much energy in worry
I still couldn’t convince
the little mouse within
(I’ve tried, I’ve tried).

No, the mouse only responds
to the soft warm comfort
of this knitted blanket--

a fool’s peace, yes, but
when I’m thus enchanted
by the blanket
my attention shifts
and then I may begin
to worry about
the anxieties of others--
I wish the rest of the world
could feel this secure
at least once, each night.

I’d like to cover our planet
with a big knitted blanket.

What can I do in this world
what can I do
to knit at least a few
little patches?

My War for Peace: poetry ebook
Soultime: a novel
© 2021, Michael R. Patton

Dying to Live

author's note:

To those who say dreams have no meaning, I say…

Maybe your dreams don’t.  Mine do.


DYING TO LIVE

Years ago, in a dream
I stood on a hilltop
and gazed down
at a spread of green farmland
stretching for miles

but the way the ground kept shifting
beneath my feet


distracted me from paradise:

what a shock
when I then found
my hill was just a pile
of bleached skeletons:

a wild massive jumble
of femurs and fibulas
and curved rib bones--
of vertebrae and pelvises
mixed with skulls grinning
as if happy about death.

As I teetered and tottered
atop this rickety wreckage
I had to hold my arms
open and out
for balance--
oh, how the stretch
made my chest ache!--
ache until my ribcage
felt ready to burst.

I awoke with a fright
but upon reflection realized
this positive message:

if I didn’t stretch open
I would fall down and die

and though I would also die
if I did stretch
that death would lift me higher
by adding yet another skeleton
to my glorious hill.

Since that dream
I no longer complain
about the pain
of stretching

or at least, not as much.

The Truth of the Dream: poetry ebook
© 2021, Michael R. Patton

Standing Still

author’s note:

“May you live in interesting times.”

I hear that expression used a lot these days.  It’s supposed to be a traditional Chinese curse.  But whether you see it as a blessing or a curse, I ask: when have our times not been interesting?


STANDING STILL

Yes, I know our human world
has always churned
but never with such agitation--
feeling the disturbance, we worry

which only makes the world shake more.

Years ago
I began to feel
the ground tremor--
as if ready to erupt
beneath my feet

so I ran
here and there
and here and there
and back again
and back again--
never pausing long enough
to feel my fear

until
I finally realized I’d collapse
if I didn’t stop and learn
how to deal with my fear.

By standing still
I then begin to sense a strength--
a strength I believe waited long
for the chance to be known--
waited, watching
this scared lizard scurry.

I’m not saying I’m strong--
just stronger, and becoming stronger still.
But no matter how strong I become
I know I’ll probably always
feel much fear
as I feel the ground shake

and I know
from time to time
my fear of my fear
may overwhelm me
and I’ll begin to run again.

But at least now
I’m strong enough to stop
before I go too far.

Maybe to hope is to be a fool
but if fool like me
can stand his fear
maybe there’s reason to hope
many more fools will stop running
and by standing still
convince us of our strength.

40 New Fables: ebook
Soultime: a novel
© 2021, Michael R. Patton