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
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myth steps blog
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© 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

Stone Alive

author’s note:

When you don’t have a boulder (see last post), a rock will do.


STONE ALIVE

One day, feeling frustrated
with all the dust of our noise
I sat down on the ground
and lifted a rock
and to amuse myself, said:

“Can you help me, dear stone?
  Old as you are
  you must know something
  about life on this planet.
  Has age made you a sage?

“But no, I suppose
  only mountains and cliffs
  can give us wisdom.”
That plain gray stone
seemed so insignificant, so dumb.

But then as I relaxed
in afternoon idleness
I no longer asked, but merely gazed

and as that stone warmed my palm
I slowly became enchanted:
I no longer perceived the thing as dead
but as an entity
tightly contained within its own self.

I actually sensed an essence--
an intensity radiating
from a power within: a force
so subtle as to seem unreal
and yet as incessant and insistent
as the drone of a Stonehenge megalith.

But my tolerance for amazement
has its limits:
I soon lay the stone back down
then bowed with respect
and ambled on.

Since then, I’ve occasionally paused
long enough to meditate upon a stone
and though I appreciate them as solid friends
that can calm me on uncertain days
I’ve never again felt the same intensity.

However, I don’t doubt their power.  No--
the problem lies with my erratic concentration.
I know:

if such a plain gray stone
holds the energy of life
so do all the other rocks
cascading across this planet.

My goal is:
to eventually arrive at
the splendid open moment
when in a blaze of illumination I realize
the incredible force behind the disguise
of all these earthly things.

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© 2021, Michael R. Patton

Luminous Living Things

LUMINOUS LIVING THINGS

I tried to satisfy my hunger
by finding Zeus in the clouds.

But apparently the sky god
had abandoned his throne.

Finally, in sad frustration
I looked down.

Only then did I begin to notice
all those luminous living things
on the ground:

things that want to be seen--
things that need to be seen--
things that can feed me

including this stream
with its myriad slivers of sun
dazzling--
silver ribbons twisting
yet remaining in place
as the waters slide on--
rippling with gentle excitement.

If I’m patient
sight and sound then become
a feeling:
too much for my chest
but my heart wants more.

At such moments
I feel blessed
to live in a world
abandoned by Zeus.

What I Learned While Alone: poetry ebook
© 2021, Michael R. Patton

Here

author's note:

I may not be Mother Nature’s son…

But maybe she appreciates the way I respect her.


HERE

Here
I’m sheltered by the forest trees
yet feel vulnerable because
here
I’m a stranger alone:

vulnerable as a child--
is nature my mother?
No

the connection broke long ago:
those trees offer no comfort--
all they do is watch me
from a distance
I can not bridge.

But in uncertainty, I open
to the feeling of mystery
to the quiet dark grandeur here.
I feel myself grow small--
I’m no more important
than that stone.

Maybe even less.

Yet experience myself
as a special individual
because I feel
so strangely alone.

And now, lifted by wonder
I also experience the stone
as a special individual…
the waterdrop on that leaf...

the tree frog.

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