Why I Listen for the Angel

author’s note:

When a man hears angels singing
he hears angels singing.
                — Mary Oliver


WHY I LISTEN FOR THE ANGEL

Once as a child
I thought I heard an angel
singing wordlessly in a gentle upper octave.
A soft silvery sound.

And so, years later
during a turbulent time
I sat down in silence
hoping to detect
at least a trace of that song
and find the same solace.

But no—
I didn’t hear any angel.
However
as I recalled
that moment of pure peace
the love I’d once found within that sound
filled my heart again.

And then I sensed
what that child had sensed
long ago:
I was not alone.  I was known
by loving eyes in a world unseen.

But then I began to wonder:

if the angel felt such empathy
why didn’t it intercede
when it saw me stumbling—
when it saw me about to fall?

Then I realized
each time I land hard
I wake a bit more
and so, my eyes slowly open.

No, I don’t know
if I’m really watched over.  However
I can say for certain:

whenever I slip
I’m able to lift myself back up
by listening
for something I probably won’t hear:
the soft silvery song
of an angel.

mythsteps · why I listen for the angel

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

Enduring the Best

author's note:

I don’t have to do an ultra-marathon.

My endurance is tested every day.


ENDURING THE BEST

After you, I realized:

we must endure
not only the worst
among us, but also
the best.

Though they use different ways
both overwhelm us--
both challenge us
to rise above
our petty selves.

But while one dares us to fight
to find our light
the other tries to enlighten.

However
their brilliant light may stun

and after our eyes clear
we feel responsible for what we see:

I often try to ignore what I know
but feel guilty when I again sense
your old owl eyes watching me
from a place unseen--
near, yet faraway.

I'm pleased you check on me occasionally
but sometimes I’d appreciate
a few words of encouragement

especially when doubt
agitates my thought
almost to blindness.

You could reassure me with a whisper--
you could

tell me again
why I must not slack
in this work--
tell me again
how the little I do
actually helps us all a lot.

Tell me I must
keep on lifting
these heavy feet--
tell me I can find
the strength hidden within

but only if I keep lifting.

Please, tell me
I will eventually
be able to maintain firm hold
on the peace
that always slips
from my grip.

Tell me
all you once told me--
tell me again.

I wait
but as with previous requests
I’m answered by Complete Silence--
I don’t even feel your owl eyes watching.

I tell myself I shouldn’t
feel rejected--
after all
why should you remind me
when I haven't forgotten?

Besides that
a repeat would merely be
temporary comfort--
not a cure:

no one but me can give me courage.

As my moment of weakness passes
I feel ashamed once again
but also think:

maybe in some hoped-for future
I can use this moment
as a story lesson--
the type of story you once used
to help teach me.

Yes, later--
when I become
the sort of person
others will gladly endure.

Listening to Silence: poetry ebook
you tube channel

© 2022, Michael R. Patton