The Center of the World

author's note:

At the age of nine, Black Elk experienced a vision in which he stood at the center of the world--Harney Peak, South Dakota.

But in the same moment, he understood that every place on Earth is also the center.


THE CENTER OF THE WORLD

When I was small
I often felt quite small

so I'd climb a nearby hill

and at the top
I'd survey all below me
and imagine I was standing
at The Center of the World.

At such moments
I’d vow to myself:
one day I’ll be at the top
and all those people
will look up at me
and finally see my light.

Alas, as an adult
I’ve failed to realize
that dizzy ambition.
But though my ego is finally willing
to accept defeat
forces within keep driving me.

So I still feel frustrated.

But I’ve found a way to find relief:
I return to that hill of my childhood.

However, now
when I climb to the top
I don’t wish to inflate—
no, I go for perspective

because when I gaze down
at our human life below
the game called “success”
can seem so small.

But if I then begin
to feel above it all
I’ll tell myself:
yeah, you’re at
The Center of the World

but so is everyone else on this planet.

mythsteps · The Center of the World

Get the Message: a short guide for understanding dreams
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© 2024, Michael R. Patton

How Ego Saved My Tree

author's note:

"Poems are made by fools like me,
 But only God can make a tree."
            -- Joyce Kilmer

Maybe so, but we can damn well help.


HOW EGO SAVED MY TREE

Lost, I was—and tired
of searching for new life.

So when I found
a winter woman of deep roots
sitting cross-legged on the ground
behind a lonely gas station
I begged her for direction.

Without a word, she then pointed me
toward a gray hill covered with a stubble of stumps.

Yes, I said, she knows how much
that wounded land needs me—
needs
my merciful healing.

Now, after much uplifting labor
I have finally realized
the obvious:
I feel small when I feel
I’m not needed.

Maybe not the best way to be
but

apparently the ego
can sometimes serve the spirit:

as I battle to save this hill
I am green spring
and I am gold autumn.

mythsteps · How Ego Saved My Tree

Searching for my best beliefs: poetry book
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© 2023, Michael R. Patton

Prometheus, Revisited

author’s note:

Maybe the Greek gods were real after all.  That would explain the capriciousness of life.


PROMETHEUS, REVISITED

The myth of Prometheus
would seem to be a warning
to those who’d try to bring fire
down from the mountaintop.

As they did with him
the gods might wrap you in chains
and send an eagle down to devour
your liver every damn day.

Nonetheless I accepted the risk—
hoping to satisfy my creative impulse
(and my ego as well, of course).

But with that choice
I put myself in the chains
of ambition

then later refused
to set myself loose
when my sparks only made
small flames
that dwindled and died.

Though my ego died a bit
with each pathetic death
I actually pulled the chains tighter
because

those flickering promises
kept my aspiration burning

and by then I’d realized:
if I let that mad dream die
life would lack meaning
and so
my life would lack life.

Maybe I stoke my inner fire
with delusion
but hey—
sometimes in that way
fools make blazes
bright enough
to rouse the jealousy
of those who try to play god.

40 New Fables
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© 2023, Michael R. Patton

Little Giants

author’s note:

There were giants in the earth in those days…
                  -- Genesis 6:4


LITTLE GIANTS

Yes, there were giants
in the land in those days--

like suns they shone

but small people felt threatened
and swarmed to attack them.

Worried for their survival
the titans then shrank themselves down
to an acceptable height--
they hid their light

and over time, forgot
their true size.

However
they’ve maintained their higher perspective
to this very day.

So they’re wise enough to know
they don’t know everything--
you won’t see them adopting titles
such as "guru" or "master".

But like anyone who stays low
they may occasionally feel low
yet even then, they reject the low impulse
to pump themselves up in public.

I respect that, however
their anonymity needs to end soon.

Consider the lonely streetlamp:

few notice that plain pole
in the glare and rush of the day.
But when twilight
deepens into night
we seek its illumination.

I believe
as our world grows darker
we’ll look for untapped sources of light

then our giants will realize
for the survival of all
they must stand and shine bright

even as swarms
attack from the shadows.

Common Courage: poetry book
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© 2023, Michael R. Patton