The Higher Mountain

author’s note:

I say: we’re all taking the same walk.


THE HIGHER MOUNTAIN

When I first glimpsed
that mountain peak
through the clouds
I instantly experienced
an expansion of spirit—

suddenly I saw the purpose
of this grinding walk
up a long incline.

And so
I started to push harder—
I begin to step with intent.

Even so
easy to forget my higher goal
because this life asks me to tend to
so many details.

But when I remember
to look up from my work
I’ll see the peak through the trees and fog
and again feel that lift.

However
all these years later
that white spire still seems so distant.

But I dare not sit on my aspiration—
my spirit would deflate.

So when the naysayer in my head says
maybe you’re creating an illusion—
clinging to a delusion
I answer:

consider this benefit:
these difficult steps I take
not only improve my state
but also the state
of the whole human race
(a little bit, at least).

Yes, my steps help us
as we struggle, struggle
to take a massive step up.

mythsteps · The Higher Mountain

Searching for my best beliefs: poetry book
dream steps blog
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© 2024, Michael R. Patton

The High-Pitched Voice

author’s note:

“Life is woof.”
         -- anonymous dog


THE HIGH-PITCHED VOICE

As I travel this convoluted path
I’m accompanied by a strong dog
that growls when it senses danger.

But if a voice inside then says “go forward”
I’ll force myself to ignore the dog
and accept unreasonable risk

while enduring people
who see my way as haphazard.

Yes, I worry
when the dog begins to whimper in fear
but
a dream once promised me
if I went where I needed to go
no matter where that might be
I’d eventually arrive at a garden.

When I awoke I felt a deep desire
to find that paradise.
But how I could know where I needed to go?
I would not go until I knew.

A voice I did not recognize
then said:
“stand and walk and do as instructed.”

That sudden turn spun my head.
Hooked by mystery and myth--
I decided to trust.
I stood up and began to walk.

Obviously
I haven’t yet found the garden
but now I can see
this twisted path
spirals up a mountain.

So today I still feel
a grand sense of purpose.

Nonetheless
sometimes when I’m led into trouble
I will join with the dog
and bark back at
that maddening high-pitched voice.

mythsteps · The High-Pitched Voice

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

The Greater Fear

author’s note:

Based on a dream.  So it must be true.


THE GREATER FEAR

As I began to wake I began to realize
I was scaling a mountain—

my destination unknown—
hidden in the clouds high above.

Having come so far
up the side of this vertical rock
I decided to keep climbing.
And besides—the way down
appeared to be very tricky footing.

Fortunately
the matter at hand helps to distract me
from the distance
I still need to go
as well as the distance
I could fall.

However
I must occasionally stop for air
and though I may then experience
a moment of peace
if the break goes on too long
my fear of heights
will start to shout:
don’t dare move another finger.

Fortunately
my greater fear:
the fear
of being caught in the net
of that natural fear
spurs me then
to stretch my arms
once again.

mythsteps · The Greater Fear

Common Courage: poetry book
dream steps blog
myth steps blog
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© 2023, Michael R. Patton

The New Sisyphus

author’s note:

I believe this new version of the Sisyphus myth to be more accurate than the one from Ancient Greece.


THE NEW SISYPHUS

An inner drive of mysterious origin
goads this goat
to climb a mountain
every blessed day.

Dizzy with these heights
I try to create some stability
by seeing my world clearly--
I try to take it all in

and as I digest
I am well nourished.

So I don’t feel discouraged
in the morning when I wake to find
one more peak to climb.

Yes, I must start at the bottom
but that base rises from the summit
of the mountain I just surmounted.
Thus, I’m making progress.

Howeverv sometimes I feel so tired.
In frustration, I may then announce:
I just might stop right here right now.

Not merely a wish--
I know the gods would allow me.
I do have free will.

But I also know:
if left unfed
this drive would try to satisfy its hunger
by devouring the one
who sat down in defiance
and said
“I have seen enough.”

Glorious Tedious Transformation: poetry book
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© 2023, Michael R. Patton

Returning to Earth

author’s note:

“I am a child in these hills.”
            -- Jackson Browne


RETURNING TO EARTH

When I see those clouds around the mountain peak
I feel inspired--I dream

of a life I can not live
until I’ve elevated myself
through slow steady climbing.
Up there: a life of peace.

But I dream too often--
I cloud my eyes
and as a result
sometimes trip
and hit
the ground--

sometimes hard.

Then as I lie there on my belly
putting head and body together
the dirt and stone and grass under me
begin to speak--silently saying:
welcome back.

Yes, I know them.
But I often forget to visit.
However, like a loving mother
they forgive the child for being foolish.
Home is any place
where I feel small and humble
yet secure.

I do need to dream.
However
I must keep at least one eye clear
and looking down
so I won’t trip and land hard--
down, so I’ll remember
to return softly to the earth
where I can feast and fortify
for the slow heavy climb.

Listening to Silence: poetry ebook
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© 2022, Michael R. Patton

Mad Monkey

author’s note:

I tried to shadow box and got knocked out.


MAD MONKEY

Though rarely shown in public
that little demon shouts its rage
throughout the day
in the shadows of my mind--
urging me to retaliate
against a donkey world.

I’ve tried to quiet that bastard
by shutting him up in a box
but though small, he’s quite mighty
and rebels against such tyranny
by breaking every lock I devise.

So now I’m trying to learn
how to use that fierce obstinate energy
in the service of good.

He hates obstacles--he hates “no”.
So maybe he can help pull me
up this mountain--

if I can ease that mad monkey
into the harness
he could become a fire horse.

If I can’t
he’ll just keep on running
ragged circles in my mind--
devouring the best of my thought.

myth steps blog
dream steps blog
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© 2022, 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

High Crossing

author’s note:

In my early youth, I had a wild fear of walking over bridges.

But in Arkansas, we had what we called “swing bridges”.  Those bridges hung high above our rivers and creeks, and some of those rickety things were to be feared.


HIGH CROSSING

Crossing high over a river
on a swing bridge
that appears
none too trustworthy.

A swing bridge
with several broken footboards
and two long frayed ropes
for my hands to hold--

the fragile span creaks
as the wind rolls in

and the water flashes
far below me–its red rocks
look like mouths of sharks.

Nonetheless, none of this
can deter me from gazing
at the distant mountains
revealed in that open space
where the river parts the trees.

Fed by the sun, those mountains
rise like towers
overgrown with moss.
Or like a garden of green pillars.
Or like ancient tombstones.
--I’m reminded of many things
   that those mountains
   both are and are not.

Do they watch over us--?--
and if they do watch,
do they feel alarm--?--or
at least, some concern?

They worry not
for themselves--they know
we can not destroy them--
no matter how hard we work.
--I feel

the softness
of the wooden step
beneath my boot.

So I slide my foot
----cautiously----
onto the next footboard

only find that its wood
has gone weak as well.

I imagine all these boards
suddenly collapsing
like piano keys falling
into a river of applause.

But I can also imagine
walking on air
all the way
to the other side--

though I know
such wishes
are never honored--
such wishes
are just not honorable.

So for moment, I will watch
my toes and not the mountains...

but I can still feel the mountains

and in feeling, I listen
to their message:
if they can not die
neither can I...

So if I fall, I will try to fall
gratefully, gracefully
'til I'm borne on a bird
that lives in a cloud
toward those welcoming peaks.

© 2010, Michael R. Patton

Mountain Medicine

author’s note:

A poem previously posted and recently revised.  A poem for a friend who has moved on.


MOUNTAIN MEDICINE

Thank you for climbing
that mountain and planting
a flag and a tree.

I thought that mountain
was a hill--from where I stood
the climb did not look
so steep.   You warned me--

but I could not feel the pain
you felt--I had difficulty enough
just feeling what I felt.

Perhaps I was tricked
by seeing how quickly
you ascended.  Sometimes I think
you were born halfway up
that mountainside.

Whereas I started at the foot,
or even below--in a hole.

We have different ways--
as is necessary--but still
all paths have thorns
and death--

so your instructions
have been helpful--when I remember them
(though even then
  I often have trouble swallowing
  the truth).

But rest assured:
I’ve resolved to keep the medicine
you vesseled for us

and to add a few drops
of my own.

© 2008, Michael R. Patton
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