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

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
myth steps blog
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© 2023, Michael R. Patton

Revival

author’s note:

Communing with nature.


REVIVAL

A half moon lows
over this forest

as a dripping tree
hangs tiny pearls
on a web above me.

The spider with its spindly legs
plays those strings
like an angelic harpist
or maybe an old bluesman

while I wait...I wait
--mouth open and hoping

until finally
a starbright drop
of holy water
shakes loose, falls down--
down onto my tongue.

I savor this sacred gift
an infinite moment.
Then swallow down
eyes closed--
feeling the blessing
descend.

Once again, I’ve revived
a life I must sacrifice
to work in day’s dry light.

mythsteps · Revival

finding Beauty: poetry book
myth steps blog
dream steps blog
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© 2023, Michael R. Patton

Stolen by the Moon

author’s note:

Since my house
burned down, I now own
a better view
of the rising moon
      -- Masahide (trans. Beilenson/Behn)


STOLEN BY THE MOON

I crept down
the echoing street tonight:
stalked by a low Moon--

feeling helpless against its powers:
what a heartbeat thrill.

Perhaps cat burglars
seek that Moon feeling
when they take jewels
from bedroom safes.

But all over this world
good citizens like you and me
rummage in the darkness
looking for jewels--
not realizing what we really want--
we want to be stolen
by The Moon.

The Moon once stole me
as I watched a night spider
pick its way gingerly
toward the center of a silver web

Such lapses of forgetting
frighten me a bit
yet also provide a sense of relief--
I need those brief vacations from myself.

So in my dimness
I keep trying to find ways
that will lead me
through the shadows
to that glowing center
of the web.

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

The Pleasure of Mystery on Halloween

author's note:

There's bad scary and then there's good scary.

Have a good scary Halloween!


THE PLEASURE OF MYSTERY ON HALLOWEEN

Voices mixed with footsteps
from some revelers in silhouette
echo from the cross street
a block from my house--

the words unclear--distorted.
Maybe those shadows are alien beings.

Well, that’s alright--
I don't want to feel safe tonight.

Those echoes ring within me
as I sit here on the porch--
I’m being invaded--
a chill thrills my belly

and that’s just what I want
tonight.

But then the party-goers go on--
the alien echoes die.
I sigh

then listen to the silence
--the emptiness--
both outside and in...

Suddenly the world is perfect:

I'm as deep and as dark and as bright
as that witching-hour sky.

And I realize:
I’m an alien in an alien universe

and you, you’re an alien too!

But that’s alright
I don’t want to feel safe tonight.

© 2020, Michael R. Patton

Sleeping with the Whale

author's note:

"Don't wake him up.  He's got insomnia--he's trying to sleep it off."
        -- from the Marx Bros.' A Night at the Opera


SLEEPING WITH THE WHALE

When I wake up
in the depth of night
I often feel a lump
--a whale hump--
beneath my dream pillow.

I'll then adjust my head
and shift and twist
but I can only ever get
semi-comfortable:

the truth is,
in my heart I sense
the beast waiting for me
beneath the waves...

even at rest we don't rest--

both day and night
we're learning
how to ride this whale.

© 2018, Michael R. Patton
what I learned while alone: poetry ebook

The Owl at Midnight

author's note:

It doesn't have to be an owl.


THE OWL AT MIDNIGHT

One blessed midnight...

I woke to find
my confused face reflected
on the translucent lens
of the owl's dark eyes.

As the wise one peered deep into me
from its perch on the window sill
I froze dumb, struck to the core--

I could feel its sharp vision scanning
through my assorted troubles--conflicts!--
not judging me nor feeling pity
merely calculating my progress
in our refining process.

Overwhelmed by the intense scrutiny
I soon shut down
but though I wished I'd stayed awake
I felt satisfied after that visit:

what I'd only vaguely sensed before
had been confirmed by experience:

our world does indeed have eyes--
yes, we're being monitored

and though our watchers
may seem distant and dispassionate
obviously, they must care--
otherwise they wouldn't track
our steps so intently.

I realize some may claim
the owl was but a dream...

but either way
I can still say:
this work I'm doing matters.

© 2018, Michael R. Patton
searching for my best beliefs: ebook