poetry and imagery by Michael R. Patton
author’s note: Short. THE HEROINE DEVELOPS HER BELIEF SYSTEM WHILE WAITING FOR THE NEXT CONTRACTION Kinda cruel to push a child into a world so cruel. I suppose I was only thinking of what I wanted for myself. Well, too late now. But at least I’m giving a soul an opportunity to grow. Yes, we will grow as I help this visitor find ways to deal with the madness of our planet.
author’s note: We need more nervous heroes in our movies and TV shows. STANDING IN THE STORM Apocalyptic movies reveal: how we thrill to imagine some mad cataclysmic event that sends the planet's populace running willy-nilly--arms flailing-- through streets rocking wildly from the rush of that panic. But of course those movies also reveal our wish to be the hero and heroine who face the burl of fire and storm and refuse to waver. At story’s end having saved the metropolis-- the nation--the world we stand with them in the ashes of the aftermath and lift our eyes to the hope of a golden dawn. However that big dream only lasts two hours and when we exit the mundane life on the street seems so uninspiring in contrast. But why should it?-- every day we feel the heat increasing-- I see people fleeing a monstrous inferno-- every day those fiery tentacles destroy homes, cities, farms, forests, oceans. We have birthed the apocalypse! Occasionally I’ll feel out of breath and realize I’ve been running. Then standing amid the fire and ash I’ll know again how weak I really feel. At such times, I begin to fear my anxiety will soon overwhelm me. And so, in desperation, I’ll force myself to find the strength to remain still-- to deal with the firestorm instead of giving oxygen to those flames with the wind of my retreat. Sometimes then the sun will shine through those dark shifting clouds and again I’ll see how we’ve given ourselves an opportunity to be the better version of who we are. The hero and the heroine.
author’s note: Thanks to Marie-Louise von Franz, Robert A. Johnson, Marion Woodman, and Robert Bly for showing me how those stories told my story. HAIL, THE LOWLY HERO Influenced by legends and fairy tales I decided as a child I should be a hero-- after all I wanted the best for myself. But where were the dragons that needed subduing? Where were the fair maidens that needed rescuing? Without great danger --tests of will-- how could I realize my high ambition? Then I remembered: often in those stories the grand opportunity of a quest arrived unexpectedly at the door of a peasant. With that in mind, I would hope and wait and fill the time by doing whatever chores I saw needed to be done: I planted seeds. I pulled weeds. I stirred a wild stew made from what I’d grown. That and much more, I did as well as I possibly could yet felt embarrassed: should a knight errant be doing such low mundane work? But even as I deflated I could feel my hands slowly growing strong. And didn’t those books say: heroes must be strong? And as I worked and waited was I not making peace with that dragon I felt coiling, uncoiling, coiling restlessly in my heart? And was I not trying to awaken my deep empathy and quiet sense of beauty? And by trying to save the better me abandoned behind the tower wall was I not actually trying to save us all? Yes, I still wait for the grand opportunity but now I work joyfully-- imagining myself to be a hero learning through servitude but just one among a multitude growing beautifully in unseen gardens all over this world.
author’s note: We’re serving our country. CLEANING BELOW THE SURFACE Don’t tell me to write to my congressman or congresswoman-- why waste time asking them to clean this mess up? Yes, they know a lot about surfaces. But little, apparently about deep cleaning. I, on the other hand, saw the need to go below the surface years ago. When my curiosity led me to a murky shadow I ran from the basement. But that shadow shadowed me so I went back in and began to clean. Now many of my many shadows glow. The crew I’m on waits in the wings for end of this show-- ready to clean the stage up and down. If you haven’t heard of us I’m not surprised-- hard to hear honest work amid the dizzy cacophony of a mess belonging to all.
Michael Patton
sky rope (subterranean rappel) 