Take a Vacation to The Moon

author’s note:

As a boy, I was once told the Moon was made of cheese.

From that point on, I ate a lot of cheese.


TAKE A VACATION TO THE MOON

I saw the Moon so close.
So round.  So bright.  So milky.

And so as before
my heart lifted my arms
to embrace that bewitching world.

But this time, to my surprise
I shot straight to the lunar surface.

In joy I bounced like a boy filled with helium
across stone-quiet plains so wonderfully stark.
I climbed holy spires.
And slid down the sides of steep craters.

When I walked
my shadow legs belonged to a giant.
And yet I felt so small—
I was but a moth
worshipping the brilliant light.

But then the Moon began to close its door
and shadow crept over the land toward me.
The swath of soft light where I sat
had soon shrunk to a thin slice.
My feet could barely fit inside—
the darkness on one side
had nearly met
the darkness on the other.
I’d drunk the light of the Moon
and now the Moon would drink me.

So though I wanted to explore more
I pointed my arms downward
and a moment later
found myself back
on the lovely soil of Earth.

But now
in my state of heightened awareness
I could feel the ground tremoring beneath my feet.

But analysis showed
the vibrations came from me.
And additional research revealed
many if not most on this planet
shake just as much if not more.

Why do we tremble so?

Maybe on other worlds
beings need not worry about death
but our Earth is a planet of survival.
And to stay alive in such worlds
you must worry every day about dying.

With that in mind
I decided I would try to soothe
a few of those nervous humans
and in that way, help make
this world a less nervous place.

And so I wrote this poem.
to urge all anxious people
to take a vacation to the Moon—
you can go even if you live in a tunnel.

But please return at the proper time—
otherwise, you may be consumed
by a terrific teat that gives then takes—
we need you back on Earth.

Here, you can help other agitated folk
by introducing them to the benefits
of imbibing moonlight with their hearts.

How Can I Live In This World?: poetry book
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© 2026, Michael R. Patton

The Pebble

author’s note:

A poem for our stormy times.


THE PEBBLE

On the ocean horizon I saw
a bouffant pile of mad black clouds
rushing toward my shore.

So I thanked my stars I'd found
that boulder on the beach—
a cleft on its leeward side
opened to a secret chamber:
a womb
where I could sit in safety
during the chaos of lightning and rain.


And indeed I did feel secure
as I hunkered down inside—
felt secure
even as the winds rose
even as the waves swelled high
even as bullets of rain
began to rattle down
on the roof of my rock.

But then the waves began to break
on the boulder’s backside—
with every four beats, an explosion:
One…two…three…boom!  One…two…three…boom!
Threat followed threat.
I could shelter my body but not my mind and heart
against those angry blasts.

In desperation
I dove into my depths
hoping to find
a solid stone foundation of being
somewhere down there in the dark

but no—
all I could locate
was a pebble.

But since I had nothing else to hold
I held it
and though the little rock didn’t elicit
a sense of security in me
I made myself believe:
as long as I kept a firm grip
on that strong stone
I would endure.

In that way
I was able to maintain myself
—yes, indeed!—
until
after a long short time
the endless storm decided
to wait and return some other day.

So once again I stood on the sunny beach
as modest waves retreated to the sea.

I wanted to unfurl glorious lines
to celebrate my triumph.
But honesty prevailed as I wrote:

Rock walls will not protect us
from the anxiety provoked by storms
but we can survive our fear
if we’ll find that little bit of strength
hidden down within

then hold it to our heart
as we tell ourselves:

pebbles grow into bigger stones
through challenges like this one.

mythsteps · The Pebble

Listening to Silence: poetry book
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© 2024, Michael R. Patton

Blessed Calamity

author’s note:

Amazing that a fraidy cat like me has taken so many chances.


BLESSED CALAMITY

Consider the blessings of calamity:

For years
I dashed here and there
in a rabbit’s hurry
refusing to listen
to the voice saying “stop”.
As a result
I eventually tripped myself up.

But the hard landing woke me
to my blindness—
I realized
I’d raced to escape my anxiety.

Before the fall
I’d imagined myself to be
a lucky soul
protected by an umbrella
held by the gods.
But now I knew the secret:
I’d always feared
the sky might suddenly
fall on my head.

Good to finally see the truth.
But I missed my false courage.
Before, I’d felt too anxious to stop
but now, I felt too anxious to step.

Fortunately last week
another blessed calamity came
to put the spur to me:

a star crashed and burned my backyard black.

Having frozen my legs
I nearly lost my toes in the blaze.
No, we can’t avoid life’s hazards.
Okay okay, I cried, I’ll go forward.

Someone much wiser than I once said:
When the risk of necessary change
seems unbearably scary
consider the risk
of letting your north star fall down in flames.

mythsteps · Blessed Calamity

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© 2024, Michael R. Patton

Message to Our Tent City Kids

author’s note:

“I’m fixing a hole where the rain gets in”
         -– “Fixing a Hole”, Lennon/McCartney


MESSAGE TO OUR TENT CITY KIDS

Dear Kids:

No, I’ve never lived
in an shaky tent
but I have known the pain
of insecurity

and often felt anxiety
as another rising wind threatens me
with yet another storm--
many nights I still
wrestle with
my worried head.

In those chaotic battles
I sometimes feel so weak
but in desperation, hold fast
until I find my strength:

often we must be diminished
before we realize
how tall we actually are.

Kids,
maybe you feel embarrassed
by the circumstances of your life.
Well, I say: be proud
of your accomplishment

(which is what I tell myself
 when I begin to judge
 my ragged patchwork past
 by the criteria
 of a critical society).

Tent city kids
don’t misunderstand me--
I wish you could sleep cozy
under a roof that won’t tear--
I pray someday you will.
But I must warn you:
no roof is rock solid.

Even a king in a castle
trembles at night--

maybe even more than you do.

I say:
we can all become wise kings
by rising to the challenge
of those unavoidable storms
that threaten to destroy
our human roofs.

© 2021, Michael R. Patton
Soultime: e-novel
searching for the new mythology