Enduring the Best

author's note:

I don’t have to do an ultra-marathon.

My endurance is tested every day.


ENDURING THE BEST

After you, I realized:

we must endure
not only the worst
among us, but also
the best.

Though they use different ways
both overwhelm us--
both challenge us
to rise above
our petty selves.

But while one dares us to fight
to find our light
the other tries to enlighten.

However
their brilliant light may stun

and after our eyes clear
we feel responsible for what we see:

I often try to ignore what I know
but feel guilty when I again sense
your old owl eyes watching me
from a place unseen--
near, yet faraway.

I'm pleased you check on me occasionally
but sometimes I’d appreciate
a few words of encouragement

especially when doubt
agitates my thought
almost to blindness.

You could reassure me with a whisper--
you could

tell me again
why I must not slack
in this work--
tell me again
how the little I do
actually helps us all a lot.

Tell me I must
keep on lifting
these heavy feet--
tell me I can find
the strength hidden within

but only if I keep lifting.

Please, tell me
I will eventually
be able to maintain firm hold
on the peace
that always slips
from my grip.

Tell me
all you once told me--
tell me again.

I wait
but as with previous requests
I’m answered by Complete Silence--
I don’t even feel your owl eyes watching.

I tell myself I shouldn’t
feel rejected--
after all
why should you remind me
when I haven't forgotten?

Besides that
a repeat would merely be
temporary comfort--
not a cure:

no one but me can give me courage.

As my moment of weakness passes
I feel ashamed once again
but also think:

maybe in some hoped-for future
I can use this moment
as a story lesson--
the type of story you once used
to help teach me.

Yes, later--
when I become
the sort of person
others will gladly endure.

Listening to Silence: poetry ebook
you tube channel

© 2022, Michael R. Patton

Your Spirit Spoke

Dance dance dance dance dance dance yeah!
                   -- The Beach Boys


YOUR SPIRIT SPOKE

Your spirit spoke to me last night
after I closed my eyes
and opened my mind--
your spirit told me

about your secret strings--
invisible wires that pull you
up and down and around--
this way and that--
according to plan.

Your spirit told me:
you don’t remember, but
you agreed to this plan in advance--
even those pulls that place you
in the path of a lightening bolt
are part of the agreement.

Yes--
your flipping and flapping and flopping
have all been choreographed

for a modern dance
expressing a courageous struggle
to answer life's shocking demands

performed to a music
that may sound jazzy
but the truth is
those notes are set on the bars of a score:

the bars not a prison--merely restraint:
the restraint experienced by all spirits
moving through time and space--

the restraint of human learning.

Yes, that’s what your spirit said
to me last night
as we watched you move
from a corner in your sunlit room

and when I awoke
in a light that reminded me of your sun
I decided to share the dream
because your spirit also said
you’ve refused to hear
its positive message--

that is:
how you work so hard to build strength
following a design quite brilliant--

no, you don’t see the beauty
of your fierce dance

as I do now
after listening to your spirit.

But despite its wisdom
I still can’t quite accept
what your spirit said
about my stumbles and slips--
your spirit claims
I can find the shine of my own elegance
in the luminous mirror of your dance steps.

© 2020, Michael R. Patton
the truth of the dream: poetry ebook

Unique Broadcast Frequency

author's note:

Not only is the Universe stranger than we imagine, it is stranger than we can imagine.
        -- Sir Arthur Eddington


UNIQUE BROADCAST FREQUENCY

If I hold very still
when I'm in
that gray place between
waking and sleep...

in the extended silence
my inner ear may detect
a word or phrase
from a voice--
unknown
yet somehow familiar.

Maybe it’s merely the “me”
within me...

but how do you explain those times
when we meet someone
   who seems familiar
   though a still a stranger
and the words just flow
as if we're continuing a conversation--
maybe one begun long ago...?

Based on such experience
I postulate:
at night, as the conscious mind rests
we transmit messages--
often across vast distances.

I realize I'm not being
very scientific
but
I believe it's best to believe
that every individual in our world
owns a unique broadcast frequency--

in this way, at least
we the people have equality.

© 2018, Michael R. Patton
listening to silence: poetry ebook

Another World

author’s note:

Recently, someone asked me how I find contentment...

Not something I usually think about...but I do know that I can find it by discovering beauty in the commonplace.


ANOTHER WORLD

Sometimes I sense the presence
of another world

lurking like a monolith
--like a dark castle gate--
somewhere over my left shoulder

but when I turn to witness
I find only a blank space

nonetheless,
I can feel the absence
and so, that world
still seems real to me:

I'm tantalized--
for years I've searched
for the pass key:

so much work and yet
I remain frustrated...

except in odd quiet moments
that come to me suddenly--

in that stillness, this mundane world
is seen again, felt again, heard again

known again
but known differently--
known as strange:

even the stones seem to brim with life

or especially the stones

even old familiar doors
hold mystery

or especially those doors.

At such times,
whatever object I experience
becomes a door slowly opening:

I discover secrets everywhere.

After such times, I wonder:
did I step through the mirror?--
did I pass through the gate?

© 2015, Michael R. Patton
dream steps: the blog