The Sun-Fire Pool

author’s note:

Did I actually see that sun pool?

Well, no, not literally.  But yeah, I did.


THE SUN-FIRE POOL

Years ago, I woke to see
a whirling circle of sun-fire
emerging from a fog cloud
hovering right above me—

concentric bands
of razzling orange-gold energy.

But with a peaceful pool
in the center—
its aqua-blue surface
deepening down into cobalt blue.

I felt that well draw me in
and shut my eyes in fright

but then in a fright, realized
I might’ve lost my chance
to know a greater mystery.

So I popped my lids back open.

But of course
the fog and fire and pool
had vanished.

I knew then
every morning I’d hope to find
that whirling sun-fire above me
when I opened my eyes.
And likely be disappointed
every morning.

Yes—years have passed
and I haven’t yet received
a second invitation.
But my feeling sense tells me:
the mystery still lurks
on the other side of the curtain.

So I remain tantalized.
No, I have not given up.

But I’m not merely waiting
I’m working—
every day when I rise
I repeat this message to myself:

I will earn the return
by becoming strong enough
to overcome the natural fear
of jumping into the fiery hoop—
the fear
of descending up through
the deep cobalt blue.

mythsteps · THE SUN-FIRE POOL

Listening to Silence: poetry book
dream steps blog
myth steps blog
you tube channel
© 2024, Michael R. Patton

Headlight on the Hilltop

author's note:

I’m living in outer space.  But so is everyone else.


HEADLIGHT ON THE HILLTOP

Yeah—
what I saw was probably
just a car headlight
switching from low to bright
up there atop the hill.

Nonetheless
the sight thrilled my heart
and hypnotized my eyes.

So when the light blinked off
a minute or so later
I searched the heavens
hoping it might reappear.

But no—
all I saw was a litter of stars.

But so many—
more than I could possibly take in.

Once again
I realized my little mind
could never ever even begin to comprehend
this grand production
called
“The Universe”.

Once again I thought:
I’m but a wee bit of stardust
in an endless ocean of wonder.

Yeah, probably just a headlight
switching from low to bright.

But a blessed event, nonetheless
because I used that flash
to remind myself:

We’re just a miniscule drop in the cosmos.

But that means:

we’re part of something magnificently mysterious.

And that means:

like all the other pieces
you and I are beautiful secrets.

mythsteps · Headlight on the Hilltop

Myth Steps: poetry book
dream steps blog
myth steps blog
you tube channel
© 2024, Michael R. Patton

Opening the Chest

author’s note:

Still pulling.


OPENING THE CHEST

At first, the wooden chest
seemed to be just another
lifeless museum piece--

antique, but cheapened by wear:
a big chip out of one stout leg;
a crack in the pediment;
the wood finish faded.

But those closed doors
piqued my curiosity…

So when the room cleared
the little boy in me
stepped over the cord
and tried to swing open
those two doors--

feeling the tightness
of the creaking hinges
in my own chest.

But despite the tension building within
I kept opening:
obeying my spirit
by fighting that resistance.

I pulled, I pulled
until
a sudden piercing pain
brought the relief of release:

a welling glow spread
out from my center
as I stood, transfixed--
witnessing
that goblet on the top shelf--

its silver plating tarnished
and diminished with dust--

so plain!
but also so open
as if to say:
here I am--
ready to be filled
so I can give
what I’ve received.

I felt the humility
of naked exposure--
I felt the tears
and bold strength
of willing sacrifice
(the victorious surrender).

But at that point
I stopped myself
because
I dared not go too deep
in such a proper public place.

Ironic:
I rarely find meaning
in those spaces and things
that’re supposed to be meaningful.
More often I find meaning
by glorious accident.

I can’t seem to manufacture
such experience
but I can return
to that greater response
by remembering
the blessed chance event.

Return again and again.

© 2019, Michael R. Patton
What I Learned While Alone: poetry ebook