What the Dream Told Me about Flying Blindly

author's note:

I subscribe to the theory that a dream won’t tell you what you already know.


WHAT THE DREAM TOLD ME ABOUT FLYING BLINDLY

In the dream, I’m flying
but I feel so weak
because I can’t believe I can fly

and feel so scared:
I’m blinded by cloud--
any moment, I could slam
into the flat slab of a cliff.

Some claim dreams
are just nonsense.
But I know the feeling
in this dream to be true.

Yet I wonder:
why do I need a dream
to tell me to be cautious?--
after all, I already am.

And if the dream means
to convince me
I can do what I don’t believe I can,
it hasn’t.

No, I think
the dream came to say:
despite your fright
you can still enjoy this flight
--what a thrill it is!--
you can use that energy
to lighten the doubt
weighing on your wings.

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

The Perspective of an Ant Climbing a Mountain

author's note:

I want to be remembered--even if I'm only remembered as "anonymous author".


THE PERSPECTIVE OF AN ANT CLIMBING A MOUNTAIN

The boulder before me
seemed scalable
but when I tried to climb over
I began to struggle--
clawing and clinging
to a vertical.

Yet recently when I looked back

that block of rock appeared to be
no bigger than a pebble.

And so
my pride in accomplishment
deflated just a bit.

Then, as I strained my eyes
trying to see why
something that size
had caused me such trouble
I noticed a long line of ants
climbing over so many pebbles
as they crawled up the slope.

I’m just an another ant.

But this ant climbs a mountain, doesn’t it?

© 2021, Michael R. Patton
Soultime: a novel

Celebrating My Slow Progress

author's note:

A big welcome to the periodical cicadas!


CELEBRATING MY SLOW PROGRESS

Often I feel frustrated--
change can only happen slowly.
But I keep myself motivated
by celebrating victory regularly:

I celebrate
like the glacier that knows
one inch more
is one inch closer to home.

I celebrate
like that little wispy cloud
that gives of itself
though it can only create
a few scant showers today.

I celebrate
like the cicada
who fights impatience
by deeply appreciating
each rich moment
of its life underground.

I now realize
no matter how high we go
our stepping never ends.
So I shouldn’t wait until I reach
some lofty pinnacle, no--
I should celebrate
every step of the way.

© 2021, Michael R. Patton
Glorious Tedious Transformation: poetry ebook

Negotiating with the Weight

author's note:

In my experience, life is filled with paradoxical prescriptions.


NEGOTIATING WITH THE WEIGHT

Sometimes when I pause, I feel
what I’m usually able
to ignore:
the weight bearing down
on me--
on all of us
from what I can see.

Apparently
life wants to crack us open.

I can’t blame anyone
for trying to escape.
But I’ve learned
such attempts are futile.
So I negotiate with the weight
in this way:

Occasionally, I stop
and lay myself down--
I surrender myself--
for a brief while
and in response
the weight eases its pressure--
at least, for a brief while.

Another paradoxical prescription:
I work so hard to keep myself
fastened together
but
to keep myself together
I must open up
this rusty iron chest.
I must force myself to stop
if I want to keep moving.

Listening to Silence: poetry ebook
© 2021, Michael R. Patton

Freedom Fighter

author’s note:

I believe my battles are battles fought by the whole human race.


FREEDOM FIGHTER

I built these walls
because I desired security

but once inside, I discovered
my strong desire for freedom.

Hoping to stave off starvation
I stocked this larder with a lot of stuff

but after stuffing myself with so much
I discovered greater hungers.

I now see how I secretly set myself up
for a liberation victory:
   driven by higher desires
   I’ll struggle to subdue my fear
   and in that way
   spring myself from this jail.

© 2021, Michael R. Patton
Soultime: a novel

What the Tree Told Me

author’s note:

Recent books have told us that trees talk to each other.

I can imagine what they’re saying: you got to watch those people.


WHAT THE TREE TOLD ME

My top limbs keep reaching up
into that nurturing sky:

with this growth
I feel the excitement of joy
but with the increased height
also the excitement of fright--
good for me, actually
because

in search of security
my roots keep deepening down
into this nurturing earth.

mythsteps blog: trying to put it all together
© 2021, Michael R. Patton

A Cure for Nostalgia

author’s note:

If I hear myself saying, “When I was a child”, I bite my tongue.

It’s nearly pulp now.


A CURE FOR NOSTALGIA

With this growth
I feel I’m losing myself.
Sometimes I become nostalgic
thinking of the one I’ve been.
The new person
coming into being
often feels alien to me--
I’m reminded of movies
where aliens take control
of human bodies.
I do indeed feel a small pod
down inside and rising up--
slowly opening
as the petals peel apart
in the dark.

Recently
I again felt the impulse
to impede its progress
but then I happened to hear
the familiar refrain:

“when I was a child...”

which according to the speaker
was a better time--
a better way of life.

Well, maybe for him
I said to myself
but not for me.

As I then recalled
the beleaguered child I’d been
my sigh blew the dust
of nostalgia away
and again I clearly saw
the beleaguered adult
that child became.

So once again, I told the pod:
hurry up, hurry up.

Dancing to Raven’s Song: a novel
© 2021, Michael R. Patton

What We Obviously Want

author's note:

“The destruction that brings
 an eagle from heaven is better
 than mercy.”
               -- Robinson Jeffers


WHAT WE OBVIOUSLY WANT

In the dream, I know I must step
on a certain round stone
in the cobblestone street--

understanding
that red stone will explode
and in a wild rush of wrath
I’ll be blasted open--
and without ever losing consciousness--
yes, while that raw fire rages
I’ll feel every excoriating moment.

But I claim no distinction:

when she found that sledgehammer
in the weeds beside the road
instinctively, she knew the brutal tool
would own her for the next thirty years
yet she lifted it anyway.

Why do we deliberately step on bombs?
Why do we pick up those sledgehammers?
Why do we empty our veins to feed the fields?
Why-oh-why
do we wander this desert?

Obviously
we want to find our strength.

searching for the new mythology
Glorious Tedious Transformation
© 2021, Michael R. Patton