The Good Little Boat Grows Brighter

author’s note:

Do I sometimes exaggerate for effect?  Well, yeah.

But not this time.


THE GOOD LITTLE BOAT GROWS BRIGHTER

Psychopathic pirates now rule the seas.
Cutthroats who feel no guilt.

But instead of defending ourselves
against those bloody Blackbeards
we honor them for their gall
and get drunk on their grog
after being blatantly robbed.

I would fight
those big flashy swords
but I fear the inevitable losses
would begin to darken my heart.

So for now
I’ll just keep feeding my little light
and share what I’ve got
as its flame slowly grows brighter.

And keep repeating
a hope I believe to be based in reality

and that is:

despite appearances
the age of Blackbeard has nearly
burnt itself out.
Millions of good boats
now roam the seas—
navigating—
lighting the way
toward a future
that may not be that bright
but at least, won’t be as bleak
as our present dark passage.

mythsteps · good little boat grows brighter

I’m Responsible: a book
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© 2025, Michael R. Patton

The Grand Temple

author’s note:

Does a comet realize it’s bright?


THE GRAND TEMPLE

Years ago, I visited a temple
prompted by my cat-like curiosity

and the light I found inside dazzled me.

Nonetheless, I did not stay—
I wanted to see what
the next temple might bring.

And to my delight
in the next I also found
the light of many jewels—
the same light just arrayed differently.

But no, I did not stay—
I wanted to know
if I could find more.

I traveled that path for a year—
finding jewels of light in so many temples
and some of what I found
stayed with me
after I moved on.

And so, I gradually grew brighter.

Then one day an old monk
told me of a temple
grander than all the others.

“Where?” I begged to know.
Despite all the light I’d found
I felt a driving need to find more.

“I can not show you,”
  the monk replied.
“But if you keep going
  you’ll eventually discover
  the temple I speak of.”

So of course, I kept going.

But as the days added up to months
and I did not find what I hoped to find
I despaired
of ever finding what I sought.

And so
though I stayed on the road
I felt lost

until the night I stopped
at the small adobe home
of a quiet peasant woman.

When I asked her if she knew
of the grand temple of my search
she did not speak
but led me to the backroom

then blew out the candle.

In the sudden darkness
I found myself surrounded
by a dazzle of diamond light—
so many facets flashing illumination—

moving, swirling around me
like a school of incandescent fish
in water deep black.

Quickly dizzy
from the unexpected spectacle
I nearly swooned.

“Where did you find all this light?”
  I whispered with my heart in my throat.

“I went to the temple within,”
  she said.
“Every day, every night
  I go to the temple within.”

After that evening, I ended my search
and returned home
carrying with me all the jewels
I’d gathered on my harvest trek—
including the fishes gifted to me
by that gifted woman.

All this brilliance helps guide my way
as I try to bring forth
those diamonds of light
hidden in the shadows of that backroom.

mythsteps · grand temple

33 1/3 New Fables & Myths
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© 2025, Michael R. Patton

An Education in the Cave

author’s note:

Though I’m still pretty dim, recent dreams show me attending college.

So, at least I've graduated from high school.


AN EDUCATION IN THE CAVE

The wise one told me:

when the first gods found the first humans
fumbling around in fog
they decided to brighten the sun.

But to see the truth so suddenly
shocked the humans—
they ran into a cave to hide

then got lost deep inside that dark maze.

A hard life—
stumbling around without light.
But in time, people adjusted.
Incredible as it may seem
eventually, humans forgot they couldn’t see.

But oh—
sometimes we remember
when we collide with a stalactite
or get bitten by a bat

or worse yet
fall into a pit.

Oh yeah, I told the wise one
I’ve known the pain
of the collision—
the toothy sting—
the hard landing.
After so many severe reminders
I’ve devoted my life
to the struggle to see.

Ah yes, the wise one replied:
calamity can awaken
our desire for clarity.

But wise one, I asked
if you’re so bright
why can’t you guide me
out of this dim cavern?

My teacher then gave me
this last insight:

Before I found my light
I felt the same doubt you feel now
so I do what I can to help.
But alas, that’s limited.
The final irony is:

the only one who can lead you
to your light
is that wise one within.

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

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
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© 2022, Michael R. Patton

Story from a NIght Stranger

author’s note:

Based on a true story?

Kinda.


STORY FROM A NIGHT STRANGER

Consider this humble tale
told to me by a stranger:

while living alone in the country
she opened her door one night
to a silent explosion of light.

By instinctive response
she kicked the door shut
then in an instant realized:
she’d lost her chance.

At what?--she wasn’t sure--
but something more
than she’d ever known before.

So she flung the door back open

but of course
saw only darkness
deepening into the trees.

Though she knows
the opportunity will probably never return
she’s also seen
what can happen
when you give up hope
so

every day
she works to be ready--
she works to build strength
by constantly trying to find
the truth hidden within
the cloud of noise in her brain.
She works to build strength
by delving deeper
and deeper
into the well of her mirror.

She shares with others
the light she finds
in her foggy head
in her dark depths.

But I wanted my own light
so I asked her
how can I delve down?
Teach me how to work.

But she turned then
and returned to the shadows.

Her soft smile of parting
said:
I’ve learned the blessing of loss.
The sharp gleam in her eye told me:
I know
you will find your own way.

Yes--
I now know how to build strength.
So maybe I’ll be ready
should I ever open my door
to a silent explosion of light.

mythsteps · Story from a Night Stranger

Common Courage: poetry book
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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.

mythsteps · Little Giants

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

We Are The Sun and The Moon

author’s note:

I’ve never been cool.

But I have learned how to simmer.


WE ARE THE SUN AND THE MOON

As a child, The Sun God
played with burning coal
and in his gleeful carelessness
set his long hair ablaze.

Every day since that day
he’s run across the sky in ecstasy--
a gold flame illuminating his brain.

But though his light grows our crops
sometimes in his excitement
he allows his fire to rage too hot
and in the thrill of the moment
he’s able to ignore the pain in his skull

nor does he see
the swaths of black ash he then leaves
all across the Earth.

At the end of those over-heated days
he sinks down in exhaustion
and at rest in his ashes
he finally feels the wound in his head.

Then when his sister (The Moon)
sees him suffering
she feels her love again

and as her tears fall
to soothe his pain
her reservoir goes
from full to lean.
But then fills back up again

because she draws from a river
of endless goddess empathy.

The Sun God and The Moon God
show us who we are--
just as all gods do.
But unlike them
we have free will--
our tracks need not be ruts:

we can see our mistakes in their mad actions
then choose to change the way we roll.

Bear witness:
the story above helped me see
this obvious fact:
   though the fire in my mind
   sometimes gives light,
   I can burn myself (and others)
   when I rage too hot.

But if I can keep my blaze at even flame
I’ll no longer need
to bathe my wounded head at night.

Perhaps then I can use
the river of my empathy
to help soothe other heads
burned by their own rage.

33 1/3 New Fables & Myths
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© 2023, Michael R. Patton

The Fable of the Good Couple

author’s note:

Narcissus looked into a mirror…

But he never really saw himself.


THE FABLE OF THE GOOD COUPLE

He saw the light in her
and she saw the light in him
and so
they fell in love

then suddenly became monsters
to one another.
Why?

Why did they snarl and snap
when alone together?

The spirits standing behind them knew--
they knew

how that guy always prided himself
on his goodness.
How he loved hearing his goodness praised!

They knew
that gal prided herself
on her goodness too.
How she loved hearing her light praised!

They knew
she now worried
he might outshine her
just as he worried
she might outshine him.

He fell into some dreadful thoughts--
saying to himself:
Just look at her--
she thinks she’s so good.
If people could only see
how she growls at me!

And alas
she raged within
with the same harsh thoughts
about him!

Maybe you’ll be surprised to hear
the spirits had actually put those two together.
You see, they know
the best among us can always be better
and sometimes need catalysts
to help them improve.
They know
a mirror can serve this purpose--
someone who reflects your faults.

But even the best
often don’t not want to see
their faults reflected in a mirror
and may protect themselves from clarity
by stirring up
all sorts of commotion.

Fortunately
exhaustion has a way
of helping us accept the truth:

finally they lacked the energy
to argue more
and slumped to floor

and in that moment of stillness
he looked at her
and she looked at him
and both suddenly realized
how alike they were.

At this point
I can reward your patience
with a happy ending--
but perhaps not the happy ending
you expected.

After achieving that insight
the couple soon understood
their life together
had reached its conclusion:
he no longer needed her
and she no longer needed him.

To this day, she praises him
for how he helped her
become a better person
and in the same glowing way
he lauds her.

Nonetheless, I sometimes detect
of hint of competition
when they check each other
from a distance.

Ah, but maybe that’s for the best:

he needs a bit of motivation
when he feels fatigued in his good fight
just as she does when she
tires in hers.

However
neither ever forgets
what they saw
on the brighter side of that mirror--
he saw as she saw
they share the same light.

33 1/3 New Fables & Myth
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© 2022, Michael R. Patton

Last Image

author's note:

Where is the ordinary man, the ordinary woman I’ve heard people speak of?

I’ve never met such a person.


LAST IMAGE

In the dream
I walked with her
though she ascended a hill many miles
away from mine:

I saw her as a distant silhouette.

But then, as she reached the summit
a beam from the golden sunset
lit her small frame:
she became a candle flame--
flaring up
then sinking down, the next instant.
The scene, suddenly dark.

In the morning
someone I sort of know
told me she had died.

Now when I think of her
I remember that last image

and so
I no longer see her life
in shades of gray and beige.

dream steps blog
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The Truth of the Dream: poetry ebook
© 2022, Michael R. Patton

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
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© 2022, Michael R. Patton

Your Light

author’s note:

Once I was blind…

...now I’m a little less blind.


YOUR LIGHT

Your light remains
long after you
have left the room‑‑

a torch bearer, you were--
a messenger of light

still beaming at me--trying
to wake me to my own light.

Whenever I look at this world
through your luminous eyes
I see the light I usually miss:

perhaps shining behind
the shadow of a face.

An open hand beams.
But even a closed hand glimmers.

I can see the light of dead leaves.
Rich black soil glows.
I behold the firelight within stones.

I imagine you now among the stars--
another light to help guide navigators
when, in desperation
they turn their eyes to the sky.

But to keep from tripping
as I navigate
I also look down
and in so doing, I sometimes
I see the light
you told me lives
in every blind step I make
on the way of my path.

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33 1/3 New Fables & Myth: ebook
© 2022, Michael R. Patton

Luminous Living Things

LUMINOUS LIVING THINGS

I tried to satisfy my hunger
by finding Zeus in the clouds.

But apparently the sky god
had abandoned his throne.

Finally, in sad frustration
I looked down.

Only then did I begin to notice
all those luminous living things
on the ground:

things that want to be seen--
things that need to be seen--
things that can feed me

including this stream
with its myriad slivers of sun
dazzling--
silver ribbons twisting
yet remaining in place
as the waters slide on--
rippling with gentle excitement.

If I’m patient
sight and sound then become
a feeling:
too much for my chest
but my heart wants more.

At such moments
I feel blessed
to live in a world
abandoned by Zeus.

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

Why the Rainbow Trout Jumps

author’s note:

Some say we didn’t evolve in the past…

But I hope we can agree: we must evolve in the present.


WHY THE RAINBOW TROUT JUMPS

Sometimes when I see the sun spangling
on the surface of these waters
an impulse of the soul
propels me up
from the darkness of my home

so I can bathe
in a light much richer
than the poor beams that filter
down to me from above.

But oh--
I’m frustrated
by these moments too brief:

just a flash
followed by a sloppy splash.
Nonetheless
I believe such leaps help prepare me
for the big transition

when I finally dare to jump
onto the bank--
to take a major step
in my evolution.

Yes, I may die in the sand
but if so, it’ll be
a happy sacrifice:
I’ll choke if I stay down
in this life--
ratcheted as I am
by a higher drive for more light.

My heart says: “don’t wait--go!”
but I know I’m not yet strong enough
to breathe that oxygen
to climb that shore.

However
I’m slowly building power
as I perform
my little rainbow show.

© 2019, Michael R. Patton
Survival: poetry ebook

A Subtle Glow Softly Sizzling

author’s note:

At first, I thought it was the refrigerator…

…then I discovered I was the one humming.


A SUBTLE GLOW SOFTLY SIZZLING

Sometimes when I stop
if I wait long enough
I’ll experience a feeling
which I will describe as
a subtle glow softly sizzling
from my bottom to my top:

an energy that seems to me to be
not of the body
though in the body--

must be what led the sages to say:
the divine lives within.

But knowing myself as I do
hard for me to accept
I’m so holy

until I recall another adage
from the sages:

we are not the light
only bearers of the torch
and how you bear
is your own choice.

A good belief, I think
and not just for me:

what if 7.7 billion believed
they shared the same light?

Maybe then we’d be
better torch bearers.

© 2019, Michael R. Patton
searching for my best beliefs: poetry ebook

Joining the Chorus

author's note:

“Truth!  Stark naked truth...”
         -- John Cleland


JOINING THE CHORUS

Why should I be embarrassed
by this scar on my chin?--

after all
I have worked hard to heal
and I think I've stitched well.

Yet I feel still ashamed--
angry at how I allowed
myself to be wounded--
angry at my weakness.

Perhaps I can finally lift myself
above that injurious belief
by joining the chorus of those who sing:
these scars show our strength!

But to truly refresh us
confession must be honest
so I'll add to my song:
I haven't healed completely--
otherwise, you wouldn't see a scar.

Such relief as I raise my voice--
I'm so tired of trying to hide
the mark that defies the mask:

last night in a dream
a woman felt embarrassed
so I turned off the light

but I could still see her scars--
each one shone in the dark.

© 2019, Michael R. Patton
what I learned while alone: poetry ebook

After I Saw My Groundhog Shadow

author's note:

Happy Groundhog Day to all the groundhogs out there.


AFTER I SAW MY GROUNDHOG SHADOW

If gray clouds cover the sky
on Groundhog Day
the groundhog won't see his shadow
and so, feel safe
to remain above ground--
to feed, to frolic

just as I did
in my dim Spring.

On the other hand
if the sun cuts through the clouds
then his shadow will be revealed
and our furry friend
will retreat to his dark den--

afraid, as I once was
of that creature unknown.

But in time, he’ll return
just as I did:

I guess we can't forget
the glory to be found in sunlight--
we want to see--
even if
what we witness frightens us
or pains our eyes.

Maybe...or maybe
we begin to worry--
wondering if

that shadowy something
has followed us back inside
and still lurks--
hidden in the dark.

So we then decide:
hard open light is actually safer
than the shelter of soft darkness.

© 2019, Michael R. Patton
what I learned while alone: poetry ebook

Light from a Dark Dream

author's note:

No such thing as a bad dream!


LIGHT FROM A DARK DREAM

As I struggled to navigate
the dark labyrinth
of that dream...

what a shock when
the thin guiding thread broke
and soon after that
my small lamp blew out

then in the smoky fog
I tried to find my way
with careful fingertips

but my sense of touch
had dulled.

What a blessing that dream!--
because...

when I awoke to its light
I began to see again.

© 2018, Michael R. Patton
my war for peace: poetry ebook

Observation of a Moth

dear reader:

Again: written about no one in particular.

Perhaps a precognition.  I hope.


OBSERVATION OF A MOTH

All day as she taps
on her keyboard she may seem
so ordinary to so many

but I've watched her brush her hair
in the soft lamplight
of a bedroom of shadows

as a moth flutters against the bulb...

© 2018, Michael R. Patton
finding Beauty: poetry ebook