What We Obviously Want

author’s note:

“The destruction that brings
  an eagle from heaven is better
  than mercy.”
             -- Robinson Jeffers



WHAT WE OBVIOUSLY WANT 

In the dream, I know I must step 
on a certain round stone 
in the cobblestone street--

understanding
that red stone will explode
and in a wild rush of wrath
I’ll be blasted open--
and without ever losing consciousness--
yes, while that raw fire rages
I’ll feel every excoriating moment.

But I claim no distinction:

when she found that sledgehammer 
in the weeds beside the road
instinctively, she knew the brutal tool 
would own her for the next thirty years
yet she lifted it anyway.

Why do we deliberately step on bombs?
Why do we pick up those sledgehammers?
Why do we empty our veins to feed the fields?
Why-oh-why
do we wander this desert?

Obviously
we want to find our strength.

mythsteps · What We Obviously Want
© 2021, Michael R. Patton


dream steps blog

Glorious Tedious Transformation: poetry ebook

Our Slow Nervous Ascent

author's note:

Every day, a cliffhanger


OUR SLOW NERVOUS ASCENT

I began to feel as if
I was dangling
so

I opened my eyes 
and saw
I hung suspended on a rope--
apparently, I’d climbed 
halfway up a tall cliffside
in my sleep.  

Though my heart felt faint
I decided I’d gone too far to stop.

Yes, I often doze off.
But now I fear climbing blindly.
So I force myself to watch
my slow, nervous ascent.

However, occasionally
I need relief
so I pause and close my lids
and as I breathe I see
beyond my own dilemma.

Sometimes then 
I see you—
I see you climbing
and dangling
just as I am

and to be honest
I find comfort when
I realize again:
you’re just as terrified 
as I am.

mythsteps · Our Slow Nervous Climb

Soultime: a novel
© 2021, Michael R. Patton

Thoughts from a Crawler

 

 

author’s note:

“Kids, be concerned when they call you America’s most valuable natural resource.  Have you seen what they’ve done to the other natural resources?”  
		-- Utah Phillips


THOUGHTS FROM A CRAWLER

Children must often play strong defense
in order to survive

but I believe
the battle we face as adults
may require even more courage

because as kids we work in our sleep
but to thrive as adults, we must awake 
and work hard to break 
the bindings of the cocoons we’ve built-- 
we must convince the child 
still struggling to survive
the break will allow the child to live. 

As I crawl along, I leave
a trail of shells behind me--
yes, I’ve must shed more
before I’m free
but what I’m leaving behind
shows this way can lead to success.

 

mythsteps · Thoughts from a Crawler

© 2021, Michael R. Patton
searching for the new mythology

Maternal Tenacles

 

author’s note:

The fossilized skeleton we call “Lucy”, is known in Ethiopia as “Dinkinesh”, which can be translated as “you are marvelous”.


MATERNAL TENTACLES

A year ago I saw a show 
about an ancient ancestor 
found under earth and rock
in dry savanna gorge--
they named her “Lucy”.

I immediately fell in love 
with the poor innocent
and that night I dreamt 
her tiny skeleton slept beneath
a blanket of my own ancient dust.

Yes, dreams tell incredible truths--
apparently the white man I am 
carries this humble stone mother spirit 
deep in his innards:

we hold more 
than we’ll ever know
but 
it’s good to know 
as much as you can
about what you hold
because

I now feel the loss--
I now grieve the death
of this simple loving nature.
Now I will nurture
that maternal engine
back to life.

As I feel empathy for myself
I feel empathy for the world:
I can see this loss all over the world.
Men lactate in their own way--
a buried reservoir awakens.
I could stop the flow, but dare not--
for too long I’ve known
the pain of being dry.

Nonetheless, I’m tentative
as this milk spills over--spreads--extends 
its tentacles
beyond the borders 
of my domain‑‑
these feelers want to feel 
but remain afraid:
   they’ve encountered
   blunt objects before 
   and been blunted.

But with this fledgling spreading 
the gray beneath Lucy's fingertips
slowly bleeds back to pink
and pink desert flowers bloom:

the prickly desert slowly transforms
into a desert garden.  Oh so slowly.
But slow change endures.

mythsteps · Maternal Tenacles
Dancing to Raven’s Song: a novel
© 2021, Michael R. Patton