The Ticket Taker

author's note:

If I was angel, I wouldn't mind working with humans...

But I think I'd need long vacations.


THE TICKET TAKER

One night I dreamt
I was working Gate Eleven
but not as a man but as an angel
because the stadium was now heaven
though still located near the track.

But I didn’t want to let the first man in--
I didn’t like his fanged teeth.

I also rejected the woman behind him--
because of her necklace of skulls.

But then a tall archangel
touched my shoulder and said:
“Since they both have tickets
  you must allow them to enter.”

What--have we no standards?
I protested.

The higher one answered:
“Look into their faces--
  can you see the pain?
  That pain is the cost
  of living on Earth.
  Having paid in that way
  they’ve earned heaven’s bliss

“but only a small amount--
  soon they must return to life on Earth
  along with the rest of the crowd.”

Isn’t anyone ever allowed to stay?
I asked in bewilderment.

“Okay, here’s the process,"
  the patient master replied:

“Next time these beings awaken on Earth
  their minds will again switch
  to survival mode--
  blotting out the memory of heaven
  just as before.
  However
  the humans will sense the loss--
  feel the pain of loss--
  and as a result
  engage in various worldly pursuits
  in an effort to regain
  the feeling of bliss.

“But though they may create
  fine pleasure for themselves
  and experience the satisfaction
  of grand accomplishment
  their striving will not bring back
  the heaven they’ve lost.

“But through the frustration of their search
  they will learn and grow
  and so, eventually learn
  what they truly desire
  and then they will vow
  to work to grow
  until they reach real heaven.”

At that point, I awoke
wondering if my dream
actually proved anything
about an afterlife.
But whatever the case may be
that dream helped me
because afterward
I did my job with new eyes:

I saw the pain
of that snide man with canine teeth.
I saw the pain
of that woman devouring her own life.
And by seeing their pain, I felt
the pain of my own mistakes.
But comforted myself with this thought:
Yes, I might still be a long way
from permanent heaven
but at least now I know
what I truly desire.

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© 2022, Michael R. Patton

Glass House

author’s note:

I’ve often heard: those in glass houses shouldn’t throw rocks.

I say: no one should throw rocks, because we all live in glass houses.

But some houses are clearer than others.


GLASS HOUSE

I can still see the light
beaming out
from the many windows
of your glass house.

That tough structure rests now
on gentle waters
while faraway
I fight to find my way
through cloudy nights
on heavy seas
that sink and heave.

Though some believed
your insight and brightness
was a natural gift
you let me know
how you’d struggled
to clear those panes.

I think you wanted me to see
the value of hard labor done.

But even now, many years later
I still have much work left to do--
I’m not half as bright
as the guide I knew.

Fortunately
I can look to your glass house
now and then
for encouragement

and for a little extra light
to help me navigate
on these dim nights.

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Dancing to Raven’s Song: a novel
© 2022, Michael R. Patton