Your Light

author’s note:

After trying for 18 years, maybe I’ve finally gotten this poem right.

Maybe.


YOUR LIGHT

Though you left the room
many years ago
your light still helps me see.

When I choose
to look at this world
through your luminous eyes
I see light I might otherwise miss:

Yesterday, I saw a beam shoot
from an open hand.
And today I witnessed
a fist leaking light
from between its fingers.

Occasionally I even see
the light you swore you saw in me.

When I lift my eyes
sometimes I see you at night—
a star among the many stars
who guide desperate ships to port.

Butterfly Soul: poetry book
dream steps blog
myth steps blog
you tube channel
© 2025, Michael R. Patton

The Ribbon

author’s note:

I hope the moon is shining on you this holiday season.


THE RIBBON

Tonight, I tried to tie a ribbon
into a happy bow

but somehow
the two ends kept slipping
from my hands.  Kept slipping
from fingertips well-trained.

Just this morning I’d tied
a yellow bow so neat.
So symmetrical.
Had I lost that skill so suddenly?

Then I recalled
what I’d learned many times before:

some things say “no no no”
when you try to force them
to be the way you want them to be
instead of the way they are.
Don’t try to be stubborn
with such stubborn things.
Just let them be, let them go.

And so I stepped outside
and let the ribbon fly with the wind—
its waves and twirls flashing
in the winter moonlight.
Away away.

Though pleased
with my kindness
I also felt a little foolish—
I must not forget
to listen to things.
To listen to this world.
To listen listen listen
to the ribbon I am.

How Can I Live In This World?: poetry book
dream steps blog
myth steps blog
you tube channel
© 2025, Michael R. Patton

The Deep Thrill of Mystery

author’s note:

To all my fellow specks.


THE DEEP THRILL OF MYSTERY

Sometimes as a child
I’d stop
all my buzzing about

and in the sudden quiet
I would sense mystery.

No matter where I was.
Even standing in a shiny white appliance store
I’d feel the world watching me.

So I’d be a little afraid
but also get a little thrill.
So I liked to stop occasionally.

But these days the world seems
to have turned its eyes away from me.
The world seems quite bored with me.
Even the stuff in my own house.
Even my own house.

However I can still summon
the deep hushed thrill of mystery
by using this trick:

I will force myself to stop
buzzing about

then tell all I see in the world around me:

Yes, I may be just a speck
but so are you—
we’re all just specks on a speck.

We’re all just appliances
and neither you nor I can say for certain
where we came from
or where we'll go
once we’re done here.

Those unanswerable questions
will then spark my mind
and I’ll begin to ask myself:

How could something come from nothing?
And what purpose does all the stuff
of the Universe serve?
Does a purpose even exist?

Of course, all my pondering
will lead nowhere
and when I finally give up
I’ll be left with an empty head.
I’ll just stand there
in the quiet stillness of the moment—
overwhelmed
by the mystery of this universe.
What a buzz.  What a thrill.

How Can I Live In This World?: poetry book
dream steps blog
myth steps blog
you tube channel
© 2025, Michael R. Patton

Our Dream of Fog and Sun

author’s note:

Is this poem based on an actual dream?

Its truth is based on many many dreams.


OUR DREAM OF FOG AND SUN

At the beginning of the dream
I saw
the golden tip of a rising sun

but suddenly fog swarmed in
and I began to struggle
to find a way through
that messy mass of cloud—
hoping for another shot of brightness.

Twice, the gray fabric thinned
and I glimpsed the brilliant circle
of the sun god through the gauze

but soon—too soon—the clouds crowded in again.

When I awoke
the message seemed obvious:

At birth my clear eyes
could see the sun
but the fog of this world
quickly dimmed my sight.

And though I’ve struggled hard
to defog my head
the haze remains quite thick

except for those blessed moments
when I’m able to part the clouds long enough
to see the sun again.

Those splendid breaks
help keep me strong in the battle.

I now realize:
though I may never achieve
clear victory
as long as I continue to fight
I will never be defeated.

I say:
my dream expresses a predicament
faced by anyone born human.

Maybe we can never regain
what we lost at birth
but if we struggle
to cut through the fog
we’ll occasionally realize our truth.

And the light we find then
will stay with us
all the way to the end.

How Can I Live In This World?: poetry book
dream steps blog
myth steps blog
you tube channel
© 2025, Michael R. Patton