A Paradox of Size

author’s note:

Still shrinking.


A PARADOX OF SIZE

One day I told a wise tree:
“I sense I’m being driven from within
  but I can’t see what
  I am trying to accomplish.”

With a sigh, the tree then said:
“You can’t see because
  your deepest desire is buried so deep.

“Look down deep and you will see:

“That you want to cross over a threshold
  so you live in a mansion open to the sky.
  There, you can rise to your full height
  and squeeze rainwater from the clouds.

“But before you can cross
  you must first shrink yourself down
  because the door is small and low to the ground.”

“You mean, I must become less than I am?” I cried.

“No, you just need to realize
  your actual size.
  Like everyone else
  you’re really quite little.”

“But if that’s so
  how can I possibly reach the sky?”
  I whined.

“Because of a paradox,”
  the tree replied.
“As you deflate, you grow.
  Just like everybody else.

“A slow painful process, yes
  but without humility
  height and weight can be dangerous.
  You’ll be helping the whole world.”

As I left the tree then
I felt so foolish
but at least I’d shrunk a bit more.

How Can I Live In This World?: poetry book
dream steps blog
myth steps blog
you tube channel
© 2026, Michael R. Patton

Rediscovery

author's note:

At a time of many disasters, I'm working not to become a disaster myself.


REDISCOVERY

Though I don't pray
sometimes I do
lower to my knees
then lower my head
and join right palm to left

because this pause
and position
somehow quiets thought
and allows me to deepen down
and find that place of peace
where I can hear
the wordless wisdom
of what seems to be
my own god within.

In the humility of lowering
I realize again
the promise of a potential
and so
once more feel hope.

mythsteps · Rediscovery

Listening to Silence: poetry book
dream steps blog
myth steps blog
you tube channel
© 2024, Michael R. Patton

Why We Search for the Abominable Snowman

author’s note:

In my youth, before we knew about Bigfoot, there was the Abominable Snowman.


WHY WE SEARCH FOR THE ABOMINABLE SNOWMAN

We fill the empty hours of winter
by searching for an unseen creature
who likes to tease us
by occasionally leaving
a solitary unclear footprint
in the snow dust.

No, we never find him.
Yet when our tired feet trudge down
from the mountains in spring
my companions and I glow like those
who’ve satisfied a higher desire.

And gladly accept the reigns
of the plow horse waiting at the gate.

Sometimes on a summer’s evening
I swear I can hear the bellow of the snowman
echoing softly in the white peaks
that tower behind our lonely village.

In response
a subtle yet distinct “yes”
sounds silently in my obscure depths.

My sense of mystery awakens then.
I am lifted up.

Some will likely say
the creature we seek
actually lives within us.

Don’t get me wrong--
I’m all for self-knowledge
but this way
we can feel strong
by braving the merciless cold

while at the same time
regaining a sense of humility
as we weave our little ant trail
under the knowing eyes
of those godlike mountains.

40 New Fables: a book
dream steps blog
myth steps blog
you tube channel
© 2023, Michael R. Patton

A Hat Stand for Birds

author’s note:

The religious practice mentioned in the poem does--or at least, did--happen.


A HAT STAND FOR BIRDS

In Bora Bora
kings pay priests to pray for them

because they believe
without those pleas for mercy
they’ll become hat stands after death
and be forced to serve all ghosts--
even those who once lived as lowly peasants.

But I believe good karma must be earned
through sincere action:
unless you learn to serve
others in this life
you'll be made to stand
as a hat stand
in the next.

Not a punishment
but a blessing--
to be deprived
of a chance at education
would be damnation.

I myself have learned much
from all the work I’ve done
holding hats and coats
as well as umbrellas
for countless others--
both high and low.

Under the weight and restraint
of such servitude
I broke open for a moment once
and in my brief high flight
I looked down to see
a hat stand transform into a tree--

hundreds, maybe thousands
of rustling, restless birds
flitted through its branches--
I still hear their cries in my heart.

I’m listening carefully to that cacophony--
hoping I may one day perceive
the glorious design of a symphony.

Searching for My Best Beliefs: poetry book
dream steps blog
myth steps blog
you tube channel
© 2023, Michael R. Patton

The Same Creek

author’s note:

Take me to the river
And wash me down
Won't you cleanse my soul
Put my feet on the ground
       -- “Take Me to the River”, by Al Green & Teenie Hodges

I say: take yourself.


THE SAME CREEK

Whoever says you can't step
in the same creek twice
obviously doesn't know creeks.

Over the years
I’ve often returned to this creek

and it has always welcomed me
saying: step in

and I will wash your feet clean
no matter where you've been
since you last knelt on my bank.

Why shouldn’t I accept you?--
after all, no human can walk without
getting their feet a little muddy

and often more than a little
even when they tread carefully.

But sometimes a pilgrim needs
to become mired in the muck.
Otherwise, they’d never work to be free.

Of course, there are those
who choose to wallow

but aren’t they innocent in their ignorance?

So how can I refuse them
when, like you, they lament
their dim-sighted foolishness
and crawl down to my waters?

But credit yourself
with being wise enough
to realize what you win
by rediscovering your humility
and surrendering
to this creek
once again.

Poet, Heal Thyself: poetry book
dream steps blog
myth steps blog
you tube channel
© 2023, Michael R. Patton

The Fable of the Woman who Rises and Falls and Rises

author’s note:

Dedicated with fond appreciation to Aesop (c. 620-564 BCE).


THE FABLE OF THE WOMAN WHO RISES AND FALLS AND RISES

For a long while
she’d walked and fought this desert
and in doing so, felt proud
because she’d proved
she was tough enough
to endure the sun and dust and wind
and keep marching.

But here’s what
that motivational book doesn’t tell you:
we all live with limitations.
In her head she told herself she was winning
but the fatigue in her heart said
you are definitely losing.

However old beliefs
don’t die that easily
--she marched on.

But even camels must bow down
occasionally--
eventually
she lost her argument with gravity
and fell to her knees.

But then she won again--won
because down in the rock and sand
she admitted defeat.
Not a popular word: “humility”--
we keep trying to forget that truth
even as the wise ones
keep trying to remind us.

In that state, she grieved
for her poor weak foolish self
until she finally tired of grieving

then
as she folded back out
she realized how fertile
a barren land could be
when you allow yourself
the honesty of feeling.

But in short time
that old urge rose again--
she felt the need to march on.

But as she stood she told herself:
this time I must remember
what I keep forgetting:
I need to lower myself down
now and then--
’cause if I don’t
I’m doomed to fall.

33 1/3 New Fables & Myth
dream steps blog
myth steps blog
you tube channel
© 2022, Michael R. Patton

Fable of the Fool who Kicked

author’s note:

I’m embarrassed to say: based on a true story.


FABLE OF THE FOOL WHO KICKED

Considering
all the obstinate obtuse obstacles
I’ve encountered on this path...

I naturally felt frustrated
at that librarian kneeling in the aisle
between the bookshelves--
he must have known
I stood behind him, waiting to pass.

So I felt justified in giving him
a little kick on the heel of his shoe--
after all, I’d been told:
you must assert your rights as an individual!

Only later did I see:
I’d wanted to ease the pain
of so many losses
by scoring a small win
in the history section.

But as soon as my toe hit his heel
the violence of the act, though slight
awoke my higher self.
As if by instinct, I felt ashamed.
Again, I saw:
causing hurt does not cure your hurt.

So even though that humble man said
"oh excuse me"
I rushed to declare
"I'm terribly sorry—please forgive me!"

Later at home
I tried to relieve my guilt
by making right foot strike left foot--

once...twice...
then I realized:
instead of kicking just one person
I’d now kicked two.

As I relate this story
I’m embarrassed
but not discouraged

if we grow through humility
maybe by retelling this tale

I’ve grown just a little closer
to becoming
a fool who never aims his toe--
or better yet:
one who doesn’t even want to kick.

33 1/3 New Fables & Myths: ebook
you tube channel
© 2022, Michael R. Patton

Tenuous Peace

author’s note:

Self-portrait.  But don’t worry--he’s not that high up.


TENUOUS PEACE

I’m watching my steps today--worried
one little slip could wreck
my peaceful state of mind

yet at same time
I try not to be too cautious
because then I begin to feel weak.

A balance this tenuous
would hardly seem to qualify as “peace”.

Why even bother?  Why fret?
Maybe I’d feel better
if I told myself:
don’t try for a perfection
that can not last
in a human being that seems to be
innately imperfect.

But no--
during those “just right” moments
I feel I’m closer to being the one I truly am
and I enjoy that person much more
than the one I usually am.

But oh--
when the fall happens
I experience such loss

and I always fall too soon--so suddenly too.

How do I live
with this sense of continual defeat?
Well, in my humility, I tell myself
I should feel proud of the amount
of honest effort spent.

Dancing to Raven’s Song: a novel
rain bird
© 2021, Michael R. Patton

The Wise Mountain Lake

author’s note:

Is it any wonder Bigfoot doesn’t want to deal with us?


THE WISE MOUNTAIN LAKE

This watchful lake tells me:

“long ago
  the deity we call 'Heaven Mountain'
  opened its heart to catch the rain
  so that I could be the cup I am
  and comfort people
  when they surrendered
  and begged for my help on bended knee.”

Yes, the lake and I both know
impersonal geological forces create lakes

but the lake and I also know
why I’ve returned to its shore.

And so
I lower to my knees, as before
and the lake begins to heal me.

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

After I Fell in the Forest

author’s note:

I hope I’ve remembered this quote accurately:

When told that a certain woman was very humble, Dorothy Parker replied, “She has a lot to be humble about.”


AFTER I FELL IN THE FOREST

I never felt the trees

until I fell in the forest

and as I lay face down, trying
to find the strength to stand again
I began to feel
the watchful quiet all around:
aliens communicating without sound.

I’ve listened intently
many times since
and though I still can’t
decipher their silent speech
I sense the trees pity my weakness.

Perhaps I return because
I want their empathy
after being beaten in battle.

Humility is a virtue--is honesty.
But I will only prostrate myself
before beings wise enough
to feel compassion for a fallen fool.

you tube channel
© 2021, Michael R. Patton

Master Boulder

author’s note:

Many years ago, I heard we should “commune with nature”.

But some time passed before I learned the wisdom of that advice.


MASTER BOULDER

Though I'm intimidated
by its monolithic presence
I often return to that boulder
at the bottom of the hollow

and then
despite my resistance
obey
its command to listen
to what can not be spoken
only felt:

the profundity of its heavy silence.

In that way, I’m humbled
even as I begin to feel
that same power
echoing up from my dark depths.

I’ve finally discovered
the value of ritual.
I now know how to pray.

you tube channel
© 2021, Michael R. Patton

The Fable of the Modest Woman Who Glowed

author’s note:

A poem about modesty for these immodest times.


THE FABLE OF THE MODEST WOMAN WHO GLOWED

When he said she glowed
she replied,
“I only reflect some distant sun.”

But later
after they became more familiar
he placed his hand over her heart
late one night
and told her:
“I can feel the deep fire of spirit.”

“No, only heat from
 the pumping of blood,”
 she sighed.

“So, would you prefer I see you
 as merely something mechanical?”
 he asked her.

“Well, okay then, if you insist:
 I glow with the deep fire of spirit.”

40 New Fables
© 2021, Michael R. Patton

A Good Fake

author's note:

"One dog barks, one hundred dogs bark."
            -- old Chinese proverb


A GOOD FAKE

When I heard their growl
I started to growl--angry at how
they attacked beliefs I held dear--

I barked and growled
until I finally heard myself
and realized
I sounded much like those I criticized.

So I decided to work
to keep a cool calm--
with my unshakable peace
I’d defy their barrage
of false claims
and cruel accusations.

But though I’ve clipped my tongue
I can’t stop myself
from growling and barking inside--
lower instinct still rules.

Nonetheless
I maintain this calm face
because
to let the mad dog out
would only add to the tumult
and do nothing to help
raise us up.

Good intentions--but what a fake!
Sometimes I feel so ashamed

but then, in my humility
I cease to growl inside:

for a moment at least
I’ve raised my higher instinct
to its rightful place.

© 2019, Michael R. Patton
my war for peace: poetry ebook

Found

author's note:

"I'm a lost man gettin' found."
          -- Woody Guthrie


FOUND

Falling down
I found my humility.

Standing up
I found my strength.

Telling you
I found my honesty.

Listening to you
I found my mirror.

Looking down
into my mirror
I found my grief

then looking up
to clear my tears
I found and found and found
my empathy.

© 2019, Michael R. Patton
myth steps blog

She Said

author's note:

Someone once asked if I ever wrote love poems.

They're all love poems.


SHE SAID

When I offered
to cross a hundred rivers
just to win a pink ribbon for her

she said

you want to break your heart out
by worshipping a dream cloud.

Well, you can also free
your heart
by trying to lift up
the children in the mud
(which is: everyone--
  including you).

She said

both ways of love allow one
to bow in humility

both ways of love allow one
to expand with the upsurge
of too much feeling

but the dream love
pulls you up
only for the moment
of its gust

whereas the other love
can lead to many great steps
on your long steady climb.

She said

you believe
swimming a hundred rivers
will raise you to the mythic.

Well, you can still live a myth
by pretending
your penknife is a sword
and your flashlight: a guiding torch
struck by a lightning bolt.

And so I did, and so
I now blaze
with sword and torch
on this climb

except when I forget
what she said
as the door closed:

stop, ever so often
and pretend
your sword is a penknife
and your torch, a flashlight--
otherwise

you will trip
over your own myth.

© 2018, Michael R. Patton
myth steps: poetry ebook

High Humble

author's note:

Dedicated to all the tippity-tops out there--please accept it.

　
HIGH HUMBLE

I said: you've
traveled far
to reach St. Louie

but having come
such a long way,
in your wisdom
you said:
we all get there
sooner or later.

So then I told you:
you're the tippity-top
of the tip top

but having climbed
so many mountains
on the way,
in your wisdom
you said:
we're all possessed
of such high spirits.

What could I say then--?--

you'd crawled through
so many valleys
on your way to the tip top
on your way to St. Louie--
no compliment of mine could surmount
your wise humility.

© 2012, Michael R. Patton
searching for the new mythology