The Light of December at Midnight

author's note:

Posting this poem each year has become Christmas tradition with me.


THE LIGHT OF DECEMBER AT MIDNIGHT

Night feels darker in December

and as I open to
the strange deep quiet
of Solstice
I stop my walk

to re-examine
the outdoor nativity scene
that before seemed so kitsch.
But now
I suddenly see

the pink plastic baby
lying in tinsel straw
is the new life
hidden in my heart--

a slow gestation,
the birth, not guaranteed.

Then I see
that glittery styrofoam star
is the wise one within--
the one who often sighs with sadness
at the sight of my rough antics.

Then--alas!--I see
that plywood cow beside the manger
is the domestic animal I usually am--
the unenlightened me.

Yes, this bovine is quite dim
but I can see my vision has improved--
consider this:
I’m seeing light I missed last year.

So this hope remains:
to eventually grow
into a wise old child
who can gaze into the mundane
and realize
the glory of its light.

Listening to Silence: poetry book
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

The Fable of the Old Man & the Bumpkin

author's note:

Do we become stronger or do we gradually realize how strong we actually are?


THE FABLE OF THE OLD MAN & THE BUMPKIN

An old man sitting in a tree
begged a young traveler
passing by on the path below
to carry him across the river.

Being of a kindly nature
the lad gladly said “yes”.

But when he reached the opposite side
he felt the burden lift from his back
then turned to find
the old man back in the branches
of that tree along the path.

Once more
the ancient asked for a ride

and again the bumpkin complied.

Since then
he has toted that codger
over the water
again and again and again

even though the geezer merely whistles
when asked how and why
he keeps disappearing
at the finish
and then reappearing
back where they began.

So stop
I told the green rustic.

To which he replied:
Just look how strong
my arms and legs and back
have become

and besides
for once in my life
I am the one who decides.

40 New Fables
myth steps blog
dream steps blog
you tube channel
© 2018, Michael R. Patton