Fable of the Woman Who Saved a Wounded Bird

author’s note:

Physician, heal thyself.
        -- Luke 4:23


FABLE OF THE WOMAN WHO SAVED A WOUNDED BIRD

Years ago, a young girl
tried and failed
to save a dying bird chick.

A sincere effort.
But what she didn’t know was:
she saw herself in that bird.

Later
she decided to help save human beings
by becoming a nurse.

A sincere aspiration.
But what she didn’t know was:
in so many faces
she saw that dying bird chick.

Later
after witnessing so much death
she decided to help save human beings
by ascending to the pulpit.

A sincere aspiration.
But what she didn’t know was:
she now hoped to save
that dying bird chick
by saving its soul.

Over the years, she received much praise
for her work as a preacher and nurse.
Nonetheless
she still felt a vague malaise.

Finally, in desperation
she asked her mirror
what the problem was

and then
in the reflection looking back
she saw that dying bird chick.

From that point on
she became her own patient.
From that point on
she became her own flock.

Later, she returned
to the twin tasks of tending
to the bodies and spirits
of wounded human beings.

But now her aspirational efforts
produce even better results

and though she doesn’t say
she knows the reason why:

People who want to open
but don’t trust
may open
when they experience
a server who lives in peace—

someone who has saved
her own bird chick.

mythsteps · Fable of the Woman Who Saved a Wounded Bird

Poet, Heal Thyself: poetry book
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© 2024, Michael R. Patton

Into the Looking Glass Pool

author’s note:

‘Cause you can never tell
What goes on down below!
This pool might be bigger
Than you or I know!
       -- Dr. Seuss


INTO THE LOOKING GLASS POOL

They said: that’s you.

Me? That tater head was me?
I stared hard—then harder
but that face still seemed so strange.

Finally, I lost patience
and crawled away from the glass--
I would explore the outer world instead.

However
the faces I saw now seemed
just as peculiar
as that one in the mirror.

And my efforts to understand them
soon ended
with the admonition:
don’t stare at people.

So I returned to my own face.

Some will surely say
You’re like that fellow in the story--
Narcissus.

No—
he only gazes at the surface
whereas I try to see beneath

and often
I don’t love what I discover.
However
I refuse to look away
because an explorer must be brave.

But sometimes I need encouragement
so I tell myself:
don’t let the pain you find blind you
to the complex wonder
which is the human being

and whenever you encounter
a ferocious sea serpent
in the shadowy depths...

try to see his good side.

mythsteps · Into the Looking Glass Pool

The Truth of the Dream: poetry book
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© 2023, Michael R. Patton

Declaration of Independence

author's note:

This poem has become my Fourth of July tradition.

Happy birthday, America!--I love your mad beauty, despite the flaws.


DECLARATION OF INDEPENDENCE

I'll be damn if I'll be terrorized
by anyone

including the beast in my mirror.

If I can face that monster
why should I cower
before those who lack
the courage to look
into their own reflections?

When they bombard me
my legs may tremble
but I won't sit--
no, I'll pirouette
in a defiant dance of joy!

And if they curse me
with cutting words
I’ll answer with a song designed
to soothe the wounds
that are theirs and mine.

But my empathy still has limits:
I must heal myself more before
I have heart enough to love them.

So though I declare with sincerity
I can not yet say
I’m completely free.

Poet, Heal Thyself: poetry ebook
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© 2022, Michael R. Patton

The Original Wound

author’s note:

Though Eden is lost
its loveliness
remains in the heart
and the imagination
         -- Mary Oliver


THE ORIGINAL WOUND

According to this myth:
our problems first began
when the first human being
felt confused because
it sensed it was more than one.

Unable to resolve that tension
the human then split in half
and one half went East
while the other half went West.

Perhaps you’ve already guessed
the happy ending:

eventually
both halves will meet
halfway around the globe
and recognize their missing part
then join together again.

But no—
the resolution won’t be so simple
because

as it walked, the East half felt
the same inner tension
felt by its parent
and so
soon tore apart
and one half headed North
while the other half headed South.

The West half also felt that tension
and so
quickly broke in half
and one half walked North
while the other half walked South.

Following that pattern
those four halves soon became eight
and then those eight became sixteen
and then…well, you get the idea.

Because we can’t accept all we are
we keep breaking apart

and because those losses feel so painful
we keep searching
for something that might heal us:

at first, a thing might seem to be
the exact right thing
but in time, we discover
it’s not the thing
that can make us whole again
and then the wound weeps even louder.

I believe this myth explains why
you seemed so perfect
when I first met you:

in you I saw the thing
I felt to be missing—
the thing could make my life whole.

And you saw the same thing in me—
I seemed to fill a void
and for a moment at least
you didn’t feel that sense of loss.

But our mistake was blessed one:
it brought the two of us together

and as we’ve struggled to return
to that garden we first knew
we’ve looked deeper into ourselves
and in the process
discovered many parts we’d missed.

I don’t know if our union will hold

but by working to repair the break
we’ve both become more whole
and in that way help to heal the wound—

a cut that first began
when the first human being
couldn’t resolve the first conflict.

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

Armadillo Mirror

author’s note:

Another mirror.


ARMADILLO MIRROR

I try so hard to see
but seem to make little progress

except when some sight jolts
my eyes open
to another obvious secret.

As on that night
when I stood
gazing at a half-moon
while lamenting
my lack of accomplishment

until a rustling sound
suddenly pulled me out of the clouds--

down on the lawn
I found an armadillo
rummaging through the leaves.

Fascinated
I watched that little armored grubber
trundling along on its bitty legs:
a dwarf clawing for its life
in the medieval dark.

Such resolve!
An irrepressible spirit!
Thriving despite all the hardships--
an accomplishment, to be sure.

As that creature is, so are you--
I whispered this secret to myself
as if channeling a deep soul.

But before my pride
could rise too high
I was struck again
by another realization:

yes, it’s found a way to survive
but eventually, shells limit us--
as any bird chick will tell you.

Can I ever convince myself
I’m strong enough
to live free from this cell?

Will we ever convince ourselves
we’re strong enough?

finding Beauty: poetry book
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© 2022, Michael R. Patton

The Fable of the Woman Who Couldn't Stop Caring

author's note:

As I get to know myself better, I get to know everyone else better as well.


THE FABLE OF THE WOMAN WHO COULDN’T STOP CARING

Hoping to make her life easier
she decided to stop caring--stop
lying in bed late at night
asking, “What is the answer?”

Thus, our heroine embarked
on a life of leisure
and limited her mental pursuits
while repeating this mantra
to herself and others:
I just don’t care anymore.

And to the eye
she did indeed seem more relaxed
in the new somnolence of her days.

However...

in her dreams
she continued to search--

continued
to drive in darkness through heavy fog.

She still strained
to climb those stairs.

She still stared
into that tall shadow
looming on the wall.

In her dreams
she continued
to argue with him
even as his face
slowly became her face.

Knowing dreams don’t lie
she eventually stopped
pretending she didn’t care.

However
she no longer felt defeated--
after comparing her dreams with ours
she knew hope again:

she saw
though many don’t seem to care
the truth is
we’re all struggling to climb the stairs
through shadows and fog
sharing the way
with a menagerie of mirrors.

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

The Rose & The Boil

author’s note:

Gertrude Stein said:
“A rose is a rose is a rose.”

I say:
Don’t be so sure.


THE ROSE & THE BOIL

When by chance I saw my reflection...

the shock caused me to wonder
if I might be beautiful--
after all, I’d often been shocked
by beauty.

But as I examined the mirror
I noticed a red boil festering
on my chin.

Shocked again!
Repulsed!

Yet curious
about that hideous thing
simply because it seemed
so hideous.

But viewed at close range
the protuberance reminded me
of a red rose in bloom.

And why not?
Both red boils and red roses
seem so vibrant with life.

But in short time, I felt I’d seen enough
so I stepped back
and the sudden shift caused me
to see myself with new eyes:
my face now seemed strange
and a little grotesque
due to its strangeness.
Ugly as a boil.

But now you know a boil is rose
I told myself.

However
I did not really believe me.

So I satisfied myself with a truth
clear to see:

whether rose or boil
or a combination of both
that face of mine
was vibrant with life.

Soultime: a novel
© 2021, Michael R. Patton

Growth

author’s note:

A poem of encouragement for these dire times…

…but not a poem of false hope.


GROWTH

Years ago in a dream
I collapsed by a creek
and in the sliding water saw
squiggles of my gray hair
drifting away

leaving me
with a bald pink scalp

which suddenly sprouted
a cover of baby fuzz.

Shocked, I awoke--
afraid for myself

but then I realized
I’d witnessed a rebirth!

Thus encouraged
I continued my work of change
with renewed enthusiasm.

But though I’ve toiled for years since
I see little gain--
I’m still so far from
the one I hope to become:
the calm wise lion
with flowing golden mane--

no,
I’m still too much the cub
spun by sudden storms of emotion.

However
I was heartened recently
by another dream:
a woman on the path
lowered her bucket so I could see
a watery reflection:

above my blank confused face
a standing field of wild hair
shimmied in the wind--
the stalks pale-yellow, but
I did detect a richer shade
peeking out at the roots.

So apparently
despite my flaws
I’m able to grow gold.

But of course--

look at all the gold
spun by our flawed world.

© 2020, Michael R. Patton
poet, heal thyself: 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

Empathy for Three

author's note:

Today, in the U.S., we honor our military veterans.

I say: we're all veterans, of one type or another.


EMPATHY FOR THREE

One night while standing in line
I heard a man behind me say
with a sneer:

he's fallen again

and felt a surge of empathy
for someone I did not know

but I knew his pain--
you see, I've fallen too

a few times
or maybe more
than a few

and like that guy
been criticized
while still down

if not by someone else
then by myself--
yeah, I can be quite critical of me.

So I think I know something
about that critical man in line--
I believe his sneer belies
anger at some part of himself
he deems weak.

The pain behind his anger
is pain I know, so now
I also feel empathy for him.

Maybe my empathy
is merely self-pity
projected outwards.

But if so, that's okay
because

when I see myself
in those two mirrors
I want to help them both

and when I want to help them both
I want to help all three of us

and when I want help the three of us
I want to help the whole damn world.

© 2018, Michael R. Patton
40 New Fables: ebook