Sunset Celebration

author’s note:

Yes, I truly believe there’s a big bank.


SUNSET CELEBRATION

At the end
as our little Earth
sails into the sunset
I hope those left on deck
will hoist their glasses
in celebration of our accomplishment.

After all, to survive that long
we had to rise above
the dictates of our reptilian brain.

A higher degree earned
after millennia of pain.

I reject the thought
all that good work will be lost
as this planet rides the waves into the sun.

No, I say:
such wisdom goes
into a big bank somewhere—
where?  Somewhere.
Souls all over this universe
make deposits.

I won’t be there at our end
but I will be there at my own
and on my death bed
I’ll hoist a glass if I can—
I’ll celebrate what I’ve learned
during my class time on Earth.
I’ll know:

my rough ride on these waves
has been worth the pain
of frequent seasickness
because the gain won’t be lost
but stored for purposes
this tiny mind can’t possibly imagine.

Get the Message: a short guide for understanding dreams
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© 2023, Michael R. Patton

Drumbeat Down in the Well

author’s note:

“We experience a dream as real because it is real.”
             -- William Dement


DRUMBEAT DOWN IN THE WELL

When the mower suddenly died that day
I said: “Must be a sign from above!”
and lay myself down on the lawn.

Then as I eased into a half-doze
I detected a pulsing murmur--
perhaps a distant drumbeat

for a ritual dance
of men, women, children--

a tribal circle reaching up
to the circle of the moon:
a celebration I might find
by going where my shadow pointed
as the sun sank in the west.

So I stood up and began to walk
or maybe I only dreamt I did--
in any case
I traced that quiet seductive summons
across a broad savanna
through the starless dark

until I arrived at a well
round as a drum--
its waters reflected a full moon.

I knew I’d reached the source
yet the sound had died down
so I listened down
down into that glowing whole
and as a result
I began to feel the beat
softly echoing up
from a deeper chamber of my heart.

I knew then
I was the ritual circle dancing--
reaching up
even as I listened down.

I understood:
I celebrate this life
every day with every beat--
even when I feel dull gray--even then
I’m still amazed
by this mystery we’re in.

Then
having finally realized the obvious
I returned--
finding my way back
with natural ease
because I was no longer lost.

But though we go back
we never really lose
what we’ve gained, do we?

I can still hear that deep drum--
even now as I mow
this sunny lawn.

Dancing to Raven’s Song: a novel
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© 2023, Michael R. Patton

Celebrating My Slow Progress

author's note:

A big welcome to the periodical cicadas!


CELEBRATING MY SLOW PROGRESS

Often I feel frustrated--
change can only happen slowly.
But I keep myself motivated
by celebrating victory regularly:

I celebrate
like the glacier that knows
one inch more
is one inch closer to home.

I celebrate
like that little wispy cloud
that gives of itself
though it can only create
a few scant showers today.

I celebrate
like the cicada
who fights impatience
by deeply appreciating
each rich moment
of its life underground.

I now realize
no matter how high we go
our stepping never ends.
So I shouldn’t wait until I reach
some lofty pinnacle, no--
I should celebrate
every step of the way.

© 2021, Michael R. Patton
Glorious Tedious Transformation: poetry ebook