Buckets & Ladders

author’s note:

I’m so desperate for good news, I’m trying to make a little myself.


BUCKETS & LADDERS

The candidate says he can save us.

But no—
he couldn’t even if he tried.
As the wise one once said:

You are the only one
who can lower your bucket
down into the well.
You are the only one
who can climb your ladder.

When the candidate proclaims:
“I’m so tall, I’m so deep!”
he sounds so short, so shallow.
Yet many believe that snake-oil salesman
because they’re searching for hope.

Well, I’ve found hope in another belief
because I see
it slowly becoming a reality:

Tired of being less than we actually are
we will reclaim our power
by rejecting our idols
and lowering our buckets down
deep into the moon in the well
while climbing up our ladders—
climbing, trying to reach the sun.

mythsteps · buckets and ladders

I’m Responsible: a book
dream steps blog
myth steps blog
you tube channel
© 2025, Michael R. Patton

Hoping for a Second Childhood

author’s note:

“It’s never too late to have a happy childhood.”
                   -- Tom Robbins


HOPING FOR A SECOND CHILDHOOD

Parental pitchmen continue to tell us:
“don’t worry--
  just get in the back seat
  and let me drive”

and we continue to oblige
because as children we were told
to never lose hope
in the magical power of heroes.

When I see all the wrecks
caused by those we believed
would deliver us
I rage on the surface
but down deep I grieve.

The child who believed
we’d build a better world
began to die when I began
to open my eyes
to the world we’d accepted.

But this adult feels the loss of life
so now I’m trying to revive my hope
by opening more--
by expanding my vision

trusting I’ll come to see
the present moment
as part of a process
that can lead to that world
of greater understanding
we imagined as children.

I want so badly
to shed this sadness--
to help reverse our loss.
At the end can I be
a wise child who sees?--
who builds up...who drives?

I’m Responsible: a book
dream steps blog
myth steps blog
you tube channel
© 2022, Michael R. Patton

Pedro

author’s note:

I’m a pessimistic optimist.  But maybe that's obvious.


PEDRO

Yes, Pedro and I
still find ways to beam joy
during these spinning days
of confusion and blood.

While I sing
that child grins his cracked teeth, rings
his tambourine--
I pan for gold
with my banjo.

Yesterday, I took him to Congress
so we could sit in the balcony
and laugh at the show
but

I kept on seeing us
down below.
So

I brought Pedro back out
to bask in the sun’s rays
and witness the smiles
of the many wounded. &nbps;I say:
no one ever loses his soul‑‑
it only gets misplaced.

Many claim
that many children now
grow up
with their souls
outside their bodies.
But Pedro and I, we both agree:
it's always been that way.

Still, we’re hopeful fools.
Pedro says

if enough get mended
the balance might tip
then keep on tipping.

To that end
we spindle personal projects--
turning cranks inside our own mines,
hoisting up buckets of ash--
all the while searching for
the occasional
jitterbug diamond.

Satisfying yet also frustrating:
our hands seem so small.

Yes, reports from a thousand battlefronts
tell us we’re not working alone.
But losses seem to outpace gains--
a monster
on the opposite side of the wall
jacks the odds against us.

But maybe the wall is illusion.
So maybe we can bargain.

In any case, Pedro and I remain
determined
to task happy:
my banjo is banjoy
and Pedro’s tambourine
sings with ringing--sparkles
like the bright folk
who hold this world aloft.

Maybe no one hears us
but at least this way
our eyes don’t bruise
when the tears begin to sting.

Soultime: a novel
© 2021, Michael R. Patton