A Deep Drop

author’s note:

You’re just as much a paradox as I am.


A DEEP DROP

Before I fell asleep in the field
I recalled the waterdrop seen
on that dark-purple flower petal

and felt: I’m just a drop.

But as consciousness
slowly evaporated
into darkness
I felt myself
deepening down.

Then when I awoke
after an hour
or maybe a month
I remembered feeling
so small.
I remembered feeling
so deep.

I felt our truth again.

So easy to forget.

Listening to Silence: poetry ebook
© 2021, Michael R. Patton

My Better World

author's note:

“We experience a dream as real because it is real.”
              -- Dr. William C. Dement


MY BETTER WORLD

The excited uncertainty
of crossing a stone bridge in dark fog

ended
before I'd reached the end--ended
with the alarm of morning

and as I began my usual routine
the intensity faded
and I forgot the dream

until that afternoon:

while waiting to cross a city street
I suddenly recalled the night bridge
hidden and revealed and hidden
by the tease of shifting clouds

and as the feeling returned
my day world of blatant sunlight
became as real as that dream:

the traffic light warning me...
the bleached grey fence...
a vacant lot overgrown with weeds--
all seemed strangely alive

and I felt myself to be
an alien spirit
discovering a wonderland

then the light changed
and as my attention shifted
that sense of intensity faded:

once again I was
a lowly armadillo
grubbing along the asphalt.

However
that feeling of living
in a grander world
is not lost, only asleep

and sometimes
stirs from slumber
to end my daydream.

I then remember
I am more than a mere
creature of survival.

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

Unique Broadcast Frequency

author's note:

Not only is the Universe stranger than we imagine, it is stranger than we can imagine.
        -- Sir Arthur Eddington


UNIQUE BROADCAST FREQUENCY

If I hold very still
when I'm in
that gray place between
waking and sleep...

in the extended silence
my inner ear may detect
a word or phrase
from a voice--
unknown
yet somehow familiar.

Maybe it’s merely the “me”
within me...

but how do you explain those times
when we meet someone
   who seems familiar
   though a still a stranger
and the words just flow
as if we're continuing a conversation--
maybe one begun long ago...?

Based on such experience
I postulate:
at night, as the conscious mind rests
we transmit messages--
often across vast distances.

I realize I'm not being
very scientific
but
I believe it's best to believe
that every individual in our world
owns a unique broadcast frequency--

in this way, at least
we the people have equality.

© 2018, Michael R. Patton
listening to silence: poetry ebook

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

Glad to Share My Incredible Nightmare

author’s note:

I'm reminded of the expression, "He's a nice person--when he's asleep."

Whoever coined that phrase has never seen my dreams.


GLAD TO SHARE MY INCREDIBLE NIGHTMARE

What a night!--
hail rained down
all through my dreams
to stick in my throat and boot
the next morning
as I tried to talk and walk
as if not so discombobulated
by a sleep
that was non-sleep.

I believe
the steam of what boils in my heart
finds release in dreams--
sometimes creating something quite sweet:
an angelic pipe-organ melody

but more often
blasting a cacophony:

last night, those tight little fists of ice
whipped down on flat stone
in rattling waves of roar--!

But I must admit
such storms light me up
with their lightning

even though in the morning
I'm left frazzled
in the burnt-crisp aftershock...

a charge and burn absent the next night
when I'm refreshed and eased
by gentle visions gone in a wisp...

leaving me with no better story
than to repeat what happened
night before last.

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

Dreaming the Truth

author's note:

Heart attacks often occur in the morning hours during the last phase of REM (dream) sleep.


DREAMING THE TRUTH

The truth must actually be important:

otherwise why would my dreams
ruin a soft nourishing sleep
by revealing the true chaos
of my waking life?--

ruin, by revealing
my relentless distress

then add to that distress
by revealing
I’m not yet over the sorrow
I thought I’d put to rest
years ago

and then
at the end of night
stun me one more time
by revealing the love
behind my dislike
and the anger raging under
what I thought
was calm acceptance.

No wonder our hearts often burst
while we're asleep...

but maybe my dreams will be
a little easier on me
if I can wake myself
to more of the truth
amid the chaos of these days.

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

Galaxy Sleep

author's note:

Our dreams remind us how extraordinary our ordinary lives are.


GALAXY SLEEP

According to one theory...

as we ease into sleep
our minds begin to spiral
and expand
like a hurricane
like a galaxy:

though we think we rest
we actually spread and accelerate
through an interstellar space--

each night we extend
just a little bit more
than before--
we grow even as we snore.

But when the alarm sounds
we contract--
in a mere instant
we slam back together again!

I'm not sure of that theory
but I do know:
in a blink I’m awake
and in the rush of morning thought
I quickly forget
my nighttime universe...

but later, while waiting in traffic
I may sense a soft buzz of stardust within
then dimly recall a meteor or a planet.

What I lost probably wasn’t that important
I'll tell myself

but in truth, at such times
I feel like a kid
who's just missed the circus
and must return to class.

myth steps blog
© 2018, Michael R. Patton