The Original Wound

author’s note:

Though Eden is lost
its loveliness
remains in the heart
and the imagination
         -- Mary Oliver


THE ORIGINAL WOUND

According to this myth:
our problems first began
when the first human being
felt confused because
it sensed it was more than one.

Unable to resolve that tension
the human then split in half
and one half went East
while the other half went West.

Perhaps you’ve already guessed
the happy ending:

eventually
both halves will meet
halfway around the globe
and recognize their missing part
then join together again.

But no—
the resolution won’t be so simple
because

as it walked, the East half felt
the same inner tension
felt by its parent
and so
soon tore apart
and one half headed North
while the other half headed South.

The West half also felt that tension
and so
quickly broke in half
and one half walked North
while the other half walked South.

Following that pattern
those four halves soon became eight
and then those eight became sixteen
and then…well, you get the idea.

Because we can’t accept all we are
we keep breaking apart

and because those losses feel so painful
we keep searching
for something that might heal us:

at first, a thing might seem to be
the exact right thing
but in time, we discover
it’s not the thing
that can make us whole again
and then the wound weeps even louder.

I believe this myth explains why
you seemed so perfect
when I first met you:

in you I saw the thing
I felt to be missing—
the thing could make my life whole.

And you saw the same thing in me—
I seemed to fill a void
and for a moment at least
you didn’t feel that sense of loss.

But our mistake was blessed one:
it brought the two of us together

and as we’ve struggled to return
to that garden we first knew
we’ve looked deeper into ourselves
and in the process
discovered many parts we’d missed.

I don’t know if our union will hold

but by working to repair the break
we’ve both become more whole
and in that way help to heal the wound—

a cut that first began
when the first human being
couldn’t resolve the first conflict.

mythsteps · The Original Wound

33 1/3 New Fables & Myths
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© 2023, Michael R. Patton

The Greater Fear

author’s note:

Based on a dream.  So it must be true.


THE GREATER FEAR

As I began to wake I began to realize
I was scaling a mountain—

my destination unknown—
hidden in the clouds high above.

Having come so far
up the side of this vertical rock
I decided to keep climbing.
And besides—the way down
appeared to be very tricky footing.

Fortunately
the matter at hand helps to distract me
from the distance
I still need to go
as well as the distance
I could fall.

However
I must occasionally stop for air
and though I may then experience
a moment of peace
if the break goes on too long
my fear of heights
will start to shout:
don’t dare move another finger.

Fortunately
my greater fear:
the fear
of being caught in the net
of that natural fear
spurs me then
to stretch my arms
once again.

mythsteps · The Greater Fear

Common Courage: poetry book
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Eternal Cup of Coffee

author’s note:

"Good to the Last Drop"
          -- Maxwell House Coffee slogan


ETERNAL CUP OF COFFEE

On that evening
I sat at the table as usual
appreciating the comfort of habit

until my cup of black coffee
suddenly began to speak to me

saying silently:
this is almost a ritual
isn’t it?

“You mean because
  I always sit here at this hour
  and drink a cup of you?” I asked.

Well, yes, the coffee answered
but I suggest adding meaning
by expanding your perspective--
just think:

what’s done in this moment
will exist for eternity--
you’ll be sitting here
at this center of the Universe
forever.

I then suddenly experienced
what I usually so easily ignore:
I’m just a small dot on a bigger dot
that moves through a space so vast
I can not fathom its dimensions.

Nonetheless I again tried to fathom
and this time, when my mind went blank
all that I’d been
and all I hoped to become
collapsed
into the moment
and so that moment
became a moment of true peace

(----)

but in the next moment
I blinked
and again life was
as it usually is.

However
some sense of that forever moment returns
when I sit at this table in the evening
and meditate on that dot of coffee

until I can again feel the vast mystery
expanding out
from this miniscule center

then in a blink
the spell will break
as the coffee says:
time to drink me up.

And so
the habit has now become a ritual.

Listening to Silence: poetry book
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© 2023, Michael R. Patton

To All Sensitive Innocent Aliens

author’s note:

I think we’re all scientists.


TO ALL SENSITIVE INNOCENT ALIENS

I once heard a scientist on TV say:

whatever we broadcast
drifts in waves from this planet
then travels through the Universe.

Since receiving that information
I’ve worked hard
to raise my best from the depths

even though my resolve
causes so much stressful strain.

Through experimentation, I’ve learned:
no way to avoid that pain
without repressing my higher impulse

and I wouldn’t want
to create waves that might wound
sensitive innocent aliens.

mythsteps · To All Sensitive Innocent Aliens

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Small Gods of the Mountain

author’s note:

Can I get a witness!


SMALL GODS OF THE MOUNTAIN

The old ones told us children:

gods lived on the mountain outside town
but we couldn’t see them
because the clouds shrouding the peak
hid them from sight.

However
if we really tried
we could sense their presence
despite the distance--
the old ones told us.

But though I made the effort
I could not feel
any higher spirits lurking
behind the clouds
of my paltry mundane life.

Finally, one morning
I decided I must defy the taboo
and set out to climb that mountain--
hoping to find those gods
and receive a blessing
that would fill my empty heart.

But far from the top
I got lost in the wet fog--
rasping for air
I sat down in defeat.

Only then did I notice the wildflowers--
softly small
yet they thrived
in that gray rock.
In the bone-chill.
I witnessed their strong spirit--

and when we see spirit
don’t we then see god?

Now
when I feel the need
for the healing blessing of beauty
I’ll often steal away to visit
those gods of many colors
that ignite the mountainside.

mythsteps · Small Gods of the Mountain

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