How to Make Death Smile

author’s note:

Is Death a “he”?

Yes—if Birth is a “she”.


HOW TO MAKE DEATH SMILE

As is typical of youth
when I was young I ignored
the possibility I could die young.

Even as I watched
so many with the same blindness
stumble into graves.

Only later
as I looked back
did I see how lucky I’d been.

I then began to step more carefully.

But now as I watch
so many my age
retire to their graves
I worry I’m becoming
just a little too cautious.

The life I’m afraid to lose
won’t have much life
if I don’t follow
the true desire of my spirit

which was and still is:

to go forth and know the world.

So though my legs tremble
I will stretch my stride.
No, the width won’t match that of my youth.
But the stubborn fool I am now
shows more courage
than the obtuse fool I once was

because now I can feel Death
watching me and waiting
as I struggle on these steps.

But my reaper is not so grim.
No, beneath that black hood
he smiles wide in appreciation.

Death sees I am doing
what he wants us to do:
to grow in strength
by confronting
the deep fear that keeps us alive.

mythsteps · how to make Death smile

Survival: poetry book
dream steps blog
myth steps blog
you tube channel
© 2025, Michael R. Patton

The Power of Metaphor

author’s note:

But when I do drown, I’m always able to resuscitate myself.


THE POWER OF METAPHOR

Occasionally a submerged memory
will leap up in a sudden wave

and as the breaking crest topples down
onto my head
the undertow
will begin to pull me under.

But I’ve learned
at such times I can save myself

by calmly repeating this instruction:
don’t try to resist—open yourself
open up your arms—open up
the cage of your chest:
surrender
and feel the full force of the feeling.

And if I then do as told
I will rise up
from the deepening darkness
to the sun
spangling golden
on those light blue waters

and a rolling wave of peace
will carry me home to the sandy shore.

Yes, by using metaphor in this way
I can stop myself from drowning.

But so easy to forget
when a sudden wave rises
and my head gets pounded once again.

mythsteps · power of metaphor

Survival: poetry book
dream steps blog
myth steps blog
you tube channel
© 2025, Michael R. Patton

Empathy at the End of Winter

author’s note:

Full disclosure: I have used “sashaying trees” in a poem before.

But if you steal from yourself, is it really stealing?


EMPATHY AT THE END OF WINTER

On that morning
I couldn’t express the heavy feelings I felt.
But when I looked out the window
what I saw expressed how I felt.

I knew that black skeletal tree
felt so weak beneath
the gray sky hovering just overhead.
But its desire for life kept it upright.

And when I saw the brown leaves
still stuck on the pale-yellow grass
I could feel those dead leaves
clinging to my skin
and knew
the grass desperately wanted
a loving spring breeze to rise
and whisk those leaves away—
all of them—away—
so its pale blades could green again.

With such empathy swelling my chest
I could barely tolerate
what I saw outside.
But I did not look away
because I now saw
the power of my desire—
because I now saw
the strength of my endurance.

But then I did step away from the window
because suddenly I knew
how I could express what I felt
at the end of the winter
and knew

I needed to open my chest
and release those winter feelings
and try to resurrect
a bright spring inside

so I could love
when spring resurrected itself outside—
so I could feel the glory
of those towers of white cloud
and feel the abundance
to be found in my own little patch
of sashaying trees and sparkling green grass.

What I Learned While Alone: poetry book
dream steps blog
myth steps blog
you tube channel
© 2025, Michael R. Patton

Blessed Affliction

author’s note:

When I found the above cartoon recently, I wondered why I’d made that drawing years ago.

So I wrote a poem and discovered why.


BLESSED AFFLICTION

She didn’t see the cause
of her problems
until she dreamt that dream

in which she tried to rise
but fell over sideways
and then watched her long blue wing
flap helplessly against the ground
in puffs of dust.

When she awoke
our heroine could then see
her invisible reality:

on one side
she had a wing instead of an arm.
And on the other, no wing, just the arm.

No wonder she kept falling
when she tried to ascend.
No wonder the boxes
she tried to lift
often fell to the ground.

Now she knew why
some people fall into the dust
time after time after time
and struggle so much
when they try to carry boxes.

With such folk she’s now found a home.

Under that roof
they gather to grieve their plight.
But also encourage themselves
by sharing stories
of afflicted individuals
who never stopped trying to fly—
who never stopped trying
to lift boxes.
And so they continued to grow
until they grew
not only another wing
but another arm too.

Those stories have shown our heroine
the blessing inherent in her affliction:

if she didn’t have that one wing
she wouldn’t feel such a strong desire to fly
and if she had two arms, instead of just one
she wouldn’t want to lift boxes so badly.

Driven to lift
and driven to fly
she may eventually earn
another wing and another arm
and then carry boxes while in flight.

mythsteps · blessed affliction

Poet, Heal Thyself: poetry book
dream steps blog
myth steps blog
you tube channel
© 2024, Michael R. Patton

Fable of the Woman Who Collided with Herself

author’s note:

Who’s holding this world together?

You are.


FABLE OF THE WOMAN WHO COLLIDED WITH HERSELF

Needing to rest
she went to visit her middle-aged friend
who’d recently retired
to his porch swing.

But soon felt disturbed
because that tired man kept telling her:
do what you want, but I say:
why try to stop this world
from colliding with itself?—
after all, collision seems to be just what people want.

Though she disagreed
our heroine did not challenge him—
she felt too weak to defend
her choice to do what she could to keep
this world from colliding with itself.

Yes, that work had given her life
so much life
for so many years
but recently
the life she lived had left her
feeling drained of life.

So now she could actually imagine
retiring to the swing with him
but at the same time
the thought of succumbing
to that temptation
rang an alarm in her heart.

And so she ended her stay early
and returned to the task
of rolling that stone up a hill.

And whenever her energy lagged
she imagined the man
just sitting here
going back and forth
without moving
day after day
year after year.
Oh how she pitied him!

But perhaps that strong woman should’ve felt
the same empathy for herself:

in time, the work that gave life to her life
again began to drain the life from her.
Yet she ignored her fatigue
out of a sense of responsibility.
And as a result
collided with herself
once again
and had no choice but to rest.

So our heroine returned
to the man in the swing—
but now without fear of temptation
because she expected to find him
in slow steady decline—
she believed seeing him
in such a pathetic state
would encourage her
to continue her work.

But no—
she found him looking happy and pink.
Oh how demoralized she felt then—
how could he just sit there
day after day
year after year
and still be so buoyant?

Then she got another shock
when he said:
I’m so happy to see you so happy.

Clearly
he couldn’t see her—
apparently
his satisfying sedentary life
had dimmed his mind—
his eyes.

She felt so sad for him then--
her decision to reject the swing
now seemed so wise.
A sigh of relief then released her fatigue.
And a fresh breath of energy
lifted her wings.

So once again she bid the man adieu.
Once again, she flew.

Now, whenever she feels
the life that gives her life life
begin to drain away her life
she again returns to man in the swing
because she knows that happy fellow
will always tell her:

I am so happy to see you so happy.

mythsteps · fable of the woman who collided with herself

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

A Real Boat

author’s note:

I’ve learned the hard way: you don’t tell the river what to do, the river tells you.


A REAL BOAT

When I found a rowboat by the bank
the wise one within gave me this whim:
why not step
into that little wooden boat
and shove off down the river?

Yes, I use metaphor
but I really am in a rowboat.
Oh yeah—
when rough waters
began to pummel the hull
I could barely walk down the street
as I rocked and reeled
from the turbulence I felt.

But I didn’t consider jumping
until I reached the shoals
because then I was forced
to go slow, so very slow.

In frustration
I pulled harder on the oars—
I pulled…I pulled…I pulled—
oh how I struggled!

To little effect, yes, but
as a result
I did not fall asleep
but instead
built strength.

Then by handling the madness
of all those twisted turns
I found I could handle more
than I ever believed possible.

Yes, I could’ve educated myself
with a long walk along the bank.
And if I’d taken a steamer
I would’ve traveled much farther
down this river.
But I would not have learned
how to push and how to pull
how to steer and how to follow.

I will now use a pun:
I keep enrolling in this river class
because the course continues to change
and so I continue to learn
how to pilot this boat
I once chose on a whim
guided by the wisdom within.

mythsteps · a real boat

What I Learned While Alone: poetry book
dream steps blog
myth steps blog
you tube channel
© 2024, Michael R. Patton

Our Secret Truth

author’s note:

Alas, I decided to delete my favorite line:

“I stopped squirming like an unearthed earthworm”


OUR SECRET TRUTH

Dreams know where we need to go.

So last night as I slept
an unseen force
lifted me up without a touch
and hung me up
in an open black space.

Though the room had disappeared
I could still see my bed
below in the darkness.
So I tried to wiggle free
knowing I could expect a soft landing.

But whatever held me
would not release me.
And as my anxiety mounted
I begin to fight
and when my struggle proved futile
I fought harder, then harder still

until I feared I might go mad
if I continued
and so

I forced myself to stop
and let my frame sag lamely in the dark.

Then I waited—
enduring the tedious torture
of being pinned—
waited
until the child within
finally surrendered to the situation
and quit whining.

And when the noise cleared
I then sensed
the strength within my soul.
And so my torment ended.
And so I woke from the dream.

So easy to forget what I’ve got
until I’m forced once more
to rediscover that secret truth.

Get the Message: short guide for understanding dreams
dream steps blog
myth steps blog
you tube channel
© 2024, Michael R. Patton

Ouch!

author's note:

If laughter is the best medicine, maybe it’s good for me to joke about my pain.


OUCH!

When slogging through
a dark morass of agony
some of us will only say
"ouch".

By that I mean:
we'll answer your sincere concern
with a little joke--
understating our pain
in the manner of a cartoon character
toasted to a crisp by a bomb.

Maybe I'm not being honest about
the state of my heart
but to share my burden
would only burden me more
because then I'd worry
you'd worry
much too much
about the state of my soul.

Please, believe me:
I can endure what I must--
if I couldn't I wouldn't
be able to limit my cry
to this silly-sad
mouse-like
"ouch".

mythsteps · Ouch

What I Learned While Alone: poetry book
dream steps blog
myth steps blog
you tube channel
© 2024, Michael R. Patton

Fortunate Descent

author’s note:

I think all human beings are courageous.  To some degree.


FORTUNATE DESCENT

When the overseers scanned our group
they saw my legs shaking and realized
I needed this trip—this ordeal—
more than any of the others.

Now as they turn the crank
my little basket slowly lowers
into the deep ravine.  Slowly

the rock walls disappear
behind gray cloud
and I begin to hear
a strange bass murmur
echoing up from below.

Down there, I will explore for all
and with luck, return to give a report
on what terrors and delights
one can find in the dark depths.

I am filled with cold dread
as the light continues to dim.
Yet at the same time
my heart thrills in anticipation:

on this trip of discovery
I’ll be forced to find my strength—
maybe afterwards I’ll finally accept
I’m not nearly as weak as I think.

mythsteps · Fortunate Descent

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

The Pebble

author’s note:

A poem for our stormy times.


THE PEBBLE

On the ocean horizon I saw
a bouffant pile of mad black clouds
rushing toward my shore.

So I thanked my stars I'd found
that boulder on the beach—
a cleft on its leeward side
opened to a secret chamber:
a womb
where I could sit in safety
during the chaos of lightning and rain.


And indeed I did feel secure
as I hunkered down inside—
felt secure
even as the winds rose
even as the waves swelled high
even as bullets of rain
began to rattle down
on the roof of my rock.

But then the waves began to break
on the boulder’s backside—
with every four beats, an explosion:
One…two…three…boom!  One…two…three…boom!
Threat followed threat.
I could shelter my body but not my mind and heart
against those angry blasts.

In desperation
I dove into my depths
hoping to find
a solid stone foundation of being
somewhere down there in the dark

but no—
all I could locate
was a pebble.

But since I had nothing else to hold
I held it
and though the little rock didn’t elicit
a sense of security in me
I made myself believe:
as long as I kept a firm grip
on that strong stone
I would endure.

In that way
I was able to maintain myself
—yes, indeed!—
until
after a long short time
the endless storm decided
to wait and return some other day.

So once again I stood on the sunny beach
as modest waves retreated to the sea.

I wanted to unfurl glorious lines
to celebrate my triumph.
But honesty prevailed as I wrote:

Rock walls will not protect us
from the anxiety provoked by storms
but we can survive our fear
if we’ll find that little bit of strength
hidden down within

then hold it to our heart
as we tell ourselves:

pebbles grow into bigger stones
through challenges like this one.

mythsteps · The Pebble

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

Truths I Tell Myself to Lighten the Load

author’s note:

I’ve learned to enjoy the daily grind.


TRUTHS I TELL MYSELF TO LIGHTEN THE LOAD

If indeed
the path we’re on is the path we need
then apparently, I need
a path that’s hard to see—
apparently, I need
to continually struggle
to find my way—

to search all around
with my back bent down
by a big burden bequeathed to me at birth.

Okay, but why do I need what I need?

Well, after some consideration
I do see these benefits for the soul:

Because I was given a gnarly maze
instead of a clear straight line
I have worked hard to find
the truth hidden deep within the center.

And because I was given
such a shoulder load
I have worked hard to find
the strength hidden deep within me.

Yeah, that stone grinds me down
but as I lose I uncover
the me beneath the surface—
I discover more of who I am.

Good to remind myself of these truths
because when I do the weight seems to ease a bit.
And if I then feel the need
for a little extra lift
I’ll dream this possibility:

someone lost could someday learn
from the lessons I’ll leave in my wake—
they’ll be able to see how
I eventually arrived
at the deep core of my being.

Maybe they’ll get a lift
when they read
how strong I felt then—so strong
my millstone
seemed light as a pebble.

mythsteps · Truths I Tell Myself to Lighten the Load

Glorious Tedious Transformation: poetry book
dream steps blog
myth steps blog
you tube channel
© 2024, Michael R. Patton

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

Between a Lion & a Worm

author's note:

"Red wigglers…the Cadillac of worms!”
            -- from the TV series WKRP in Cincinnati


BETWEEN A LION & A WORM

The phenomenon known
as shape shifting
is a common occurrence.
Consider:

I've seen lions become worms
and hide under stones
after accepting the lie told to them.
But that need not be a tragedy—
a big cat can benefit
from living subterranean

because as a worm
it can feed upon
the rich life to be found
in the loam below the surface.

But as that grubber expands
its safe space
will began to feel
suffocating.

The crawler must then decide:
will I die as a worm
or emerge

and live as a lion?

I predict:
when we look back
on our worm-life
we will reject all regrets

because then
we’ll be able to see
all we learned
in our life as a worm.

mythsteps · Between a Lion and a Worm

© 2024, Michael R. Patton
glorious tedious transformation: a poetry book

How I Learned to Surf

author’s note:

I believe without question: there's a part of me that knows exactly what I need to do.


HOW I LEARNED TO SURF

Years ago
I felt my legs trembling
and could not see the cause

so I decided to close down
and sat myself down
on a flat desert stone.

But in stillness
I started to feel
mysterious energies
working within me:

an emotional ocean heaved and crashed
in waves of constant conflict.

I tried
but could not tame that storm.
I wanted to run
but felt too weak to stand.

Fortunately I remembered
a claim made by the ancients:

way down below can be found
the foundation stone of our being.

Desperate for security
I then dove
into those unruly waters—

in search of the stone
I fought my way down

and down

until I felt a calm powerful presence—

its big ocean bell
sounded out this message:

open...
open up…
open more!

From experience I knew:
inner guidance must be obeyed
even when the action seems hazardous.

So I opened my toes
my hands
my chest
my stomach
my groin

then opened my eyes
to find myself
standing on that flat stone—
my feet planted apart
and my arms spread wide
for balance, for balance
as I surfed
over waves of soil and sand.

A victory, yes
but I must admit
now, years later
I still tremble with tension.
But when a little becomes too much
I refuse to shut down—
no, I open more
and go with the motion.

In that way
I manage to stand strong
and ride the waves
of this incredible ocean storm.

mythsteps · How I Learned to Surf

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

Blessed Calamity

author’s note:

Amazing that a fraidy cat like me has taken so many chances.


BLESSED CALAMITY

Consider the blessings of calamity:

For years
I dashed here and there
in a rabbit’s hurry
refusing to listen
to the voice saying “stop”.
As a result
I eventually tripped myself up.

But the hard landing woke me
to my blindness—
I realized
I’d raced to escape my anxiety.

Before the fall
I’d imagined myself to be
a lucky soul
protected by an umbrella
held by the gods.
But now I knew the secret:
I’d always feared
the sky might suddenly
fall on my head.

Good to finally see the truth.
But I missed my false courage.
Before, I’d felt too anxious to stop
but now, I felt too anxious to step.

Fortunately last week
another blessed calamity came
to put the spur to me:

a star crashed and burned my backyard black.

Having frozen my legs
I nearly lost my toes in the blaze.
No, we can’t avoid life’s hazards.
Okay okay, I cried, I’ll go forward.

Someone much wiser than I once said:
When the risk of necessary change
seems unbearably scary
consider the risk
of letting your north star fall down in flames.

mythsteps · Blessed Calamity

Common Courage: poetry ebook
dream steps blog
myth steps blog
you tube channel
© 2024, Michael R. Patton

Welcome, Monstrosity

author’s note:

Courage…a daily requirement.


WELCOME, MONSTROSITY

While walking in the moonlight
through a snowy field
in a dream one night
I suddenly saw

the monolithic silhouette of a giant
standing in my path.

A star sparkled on the tip
of a spear aimed straight at my heart.

So I turned to run

and awoke in my soft bed.

Though relieved
I felt limp with loss—
I’d been told
we can only defeat
the shadowy threats of our dreams
by facing them head-on.

Hoping for solace
I confessed my failure
to the wise one

who then said:

as long as you remember
the shame you now feel
you’ll fight to overcome your weakness.

And so
after struggling many days
with the disgrace of my retreat
I felt such a lift
when the giant stood before me again—
I opened my arms and yelled:
welcome, monstrosity!

And actually felt disappointed
when the shadow vanished the next instant.

The field of snow shone in moonlight
but instead of continuing on the path
I followed the trail of a little chipmunk
into the dark woods nearby.

The next day I returned to the wise one
to crow of my success.

Yes, she said
better to face the shadows within
before we take on
the giant shadows of our world—

hard to win
when you’re waging war on two fronts.

mythsteps · Welcome Monstrosity

Get the Message: a short guide for understanding dreams
dream steps blog
myth steps blog
you tube channel
© 2024, Michael R. Patton

The Weight

author’s note:

Not to be confused with the song of the same name.

The weight in the poem is a different type of burden than the one described in the song.  Heavier.


THE WEIGHT

In the dream
I carried the world on my shoulders

and felt unfairly burdened

until I looked around the crowd
and saw how everyone else also struggled
to remain upright.

The weight just might break the human race.

Some say
the weight comes from the knowledge
death always watches
and may suddenly become impatient.

Some say the same in another way—
they say
the weight comes from
our distrust of the world—
the instinct that keeps us alive.

Yes—
I feel myself wrapped inside
that state of mind

except in those moments
when the stronger me breaks free.

In the openness of release
I may again experience
the unknown enormity
of a sky and planet so grand.

At such times
life seems much too much—
even in peace the weight stays with me.

So
since I can’t get rid of the weight
I’ve decided to embrace the burden—

I tell myself:
if you didn’t feel the weight
you wouldn’t struggle so hard to be strong.

mythsteps · The Weight

Get the Message: a short guide for understanding dreams
dream steps blog
myth steps blog
you tube channel
© 2023, Michael R. Patton

The Plus of My Minus

author’s note:

We all have a stairway.


THE PLUS OF MY MINUS

In a dream
I climbed to the top of the stairs
despite missing a muscle in one leg.
How I struggled.

Why would anyone hampered
by such an injury
drag themselves up a stairway
when they could just as well sit
and rest ‘til death?

Maybe I imagine
through the act of lifting myself up
I’ll transform
into someone whole.

Or maybe I hope
when I reach the top
success will ease the pain
of this deficiency.

However
I don’t think I felt triumphant
at the end of the dream.
In any case
my leg hadn’t grown another muscle.

But that’s okay--
now I can see
how my minus actually benefits me:

as I struggle I grow stronger.

So I’ll keep struggling--
I’m desperate
to rid myself of this feeling of weakness.

Perhaps my dream
is also a dream for the human race:

yes, we’re missing at least one muscle
in at least one leg
but as a result
maybe we’ll continue to struggle--
maybe we’ll continue to climb.

No, I don’t think
we will ever be whole
but with each step we take
we will lift ourselves up
and then stand in a better place.

mythsteps · The Plus of My Minus

Glorious Tedious Transformation: poetry book
myth steps blog
dream steps blog
you tube channel
© 2023, Michael R. Patton

My Best Guess

author’s note:

My ideas will evolve, I'm sure.  But I don't think I'll find a better best guess.


MY BEST GUESS

As a child I tied myself up

in order to survive.

Now as a captive adult
I work to undo the tangle

because I realize
for my spirit to survive
I must go against
old survival tactics.

What could be the benefit
of a design that creates
so much inner conflict?
My best guess is based
on what seems most apparent:
we are learning to be strong.

First, by fighting for life
as all other beasts do.
Then by fighting for our soul
within the lines of this human zoo.

mythsteps · My Best Guess

Searching for my best beliefs: poetry book
myth steps blog
dream steps blog
you tube channel
© 2023, Michael R. Patton

The Cliche Tree

author’s note:

I’ve heard we’re in a mental health crisis.

In response, I’m writing mental health poems.


THE CLICHE TREE

Because I felt so weak
I asked the tree at the end of the street:

how can you possibly
grow so green, so strong
in soil so poor
on water so trickly and stale
in sunlight so dingy and pale?

And the tree replied:
close your eyes
and feel your heart
tap down deep into the earth—

and feel your soul open
and rise
in surrender to the sky.

Cliches, I thought.
But in the desperation of need
I did as instructed.

And felt as lifeless as before.

But in the desperation of desire
I waited

and after a long short time
sensed a stirring—
an awakening
amazing to me:

my flat desert slowly grew giddy
with a saturation of rising artesian waters.
I felt as rich as the mole
diving deep in black loam.
My sacrificial kite
burned gleefully
in the fire of the midday sun.

I suppose we say “spirit” and “soul”
because attempts at accurate description
soon sound silly.

So I won’t go on
but finish with this embarrassment:

after a long short time
I began to fear
I might lose myself
so I lifted my lids

to found a street now abundant.

When I then asked “What happened?”
the tree only told me what I needed to know:

As long as you struggle
against weakness
you’ll grow stronger
but
you must stop occasionally
to realize what you truly feel
otherwise you’ll forget
the truth of our bountiful world.

mythsteps · The Cliche Tree

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